I write poems from time to time. I’m not a poet. I don’t have the soul of a poet or the intuition to feel and relay “universal suffering” in my words.
Sometimes, though, I can make rhyme and rhythm into something relatively relateable.
You might guess from recent posts, that I’m struggling with some hard things. Maybe this poem will give you a glimpse through the tinted windows of my soul.
Once upon a Teardrop
Once upon a teardrop
A heart began to weep
Aching wounds so deep
Blood did spill and seep
Once upon a heartbreak
Blackness swarmed like bees
Hope whacked at the knees
Heaven ignored the pleas
Once upon a deathbed
Angels refused to sing
Acidic breath did sting
Hells bells pealed sharp a ring
Once upon an autumn
Leaves refused to turn
Fiery beauty spurn
Smoking furies burn
Once upon a teardrop
A broken heart bled
Joy and truth both fled
Faith in God was dead
I felt my heart stop
Once upon a teardrop
What do you think? Does this short verse bring any images to mind for you? Feel free to add your own stanza in the comments.
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