If a poem was less
If it did not make you bleed
Then the love was untested
Left outside of one's need
If you could not squeeze a syllable
Make it scream in pain or delight
If the words were not nimble and
Danced not across a glazen heart
Shattering all in sight
If not a tear falls from joy
From the cheeks of rain
Then all words are useless
There is no loss to your gain