Seeing grown men cry strikes a chord in me,
a clang, dissonant, the cloudy eye and cracking throat
makes me uneasy. Though it is not just those that trouble me,
a persons freed emotions are trivial things,
yet I weep, sob, lament all the time. Do not misunderstand me.
Do not assume I have no anxious human worry.
I saw Dad cry once when he spoke about his mother.
Isn't it strange to think I would ever cry
for my parents, as though they wouldn't be around forever?
I've cried over friends I have no heed for now,
moods are temperamental. Feelings are irrelevant
and I am slave to their swinging. Cannot switch them off
must move with them and their constant tide.