I learned to never be afraid to shed tears,
A sign of a weakness is often feared.
But if dark clouds can rain in the morning,
Why can’t our tears reign in the mourning?
Whether that be for the deceased,
Or the fact my mind seeks peace.
Ever so discreet, the tears meet my cheek,
It can’t hit my chin; I show no signs of defeat.
But my actions repeat, again and again,
And then, I finally let the tears reach my chin.
I would never cry over milk spilled,
I’d just wipe it off the floor.
But I’m not afraid to wipe my face,
When the tears reign and pour.