It was December and warmer than usual
when I cried my eyes out.
First I thought of my father, who died when I was seventeen
and I cried for my lost confidante and my mentor,
Then came my children and my gentle breeze,
and I cried for dreams unrealised and a death unexpected,
Then came the vision of my Father-in-Law
and I cried for the theft of a beautiful, gentle soul,
Then came the loves I passed in my cold and confused youth
and I cried for what was, could have been and simply imagined,
Then came the poor and the desperate strangers
and I cried for the injustice and the severed cord of humanity
Finally I sobbed for myself
for the sadnesses I endured and the failings that I am.
oh how I cried.
I cried with wine and without,
tears salty with the grapes of Spanish hillsides
I cried with tears so hot they steamed my glasses
with a fog of self loathing.
I cried until my tears were all but gone
until all that was left was me
and all my flaws and my humbled greatness.
Dec 22, 2015
Dec 22, 2015 at 2:45 PM UTC
It was December and warmer than usual
when I cried my eyes out.
First I thought of my father, who died when I was seventeen
and I cried for my lost confidante and my mentor,
Then came my children and my gentle breeze,
and I cried for dreams unrealised and a death unexpected,
Then came the vision of my Father-in-Law
and I cried for the theft of a beautiful, gentle soul,
Then came the loves I passed in my cold and confused youth
and I cried for what was, could have been and simply imagined,
Then came the poor and the desperate strangers
and I cried for the injustice and the severed cord of humanity
Finally I sobbed for myself
for the sadnesses I endured and the failings that I am.
oh how I cried.
I cried with wine and without,
tears salty with the grapes of Spanish hillsides
I cried with tears so hot they steamed my glasses
with a fog of self loathing.
I cried until my tears were all but gone
until all that was left was me
and all my flaws and my humbled greatness.
