Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
My tears are like small feet Running down my face in speed I always cry quietly this us a tradition I hush myself and my little feet. Run quietly I always mumble Never do I want to be heard This is tradition that I hide away some where Closed so that if my lips part the murmurs are not Heard from outside ears that only understand laughter So I keep my small steps in napkins and ball them up from Site Because the running of tears is a secret tradition that only I can be present in.
0
Apr 21, 2013
Apr 21, 2013 at 1:28 PM UTC
The Tradition
My tears are like small feet Running down my face in speed I always cry quietly this us a tradition I hush myself and my little feet. Run quietly I always mumble Never do I want to be heard This is tradition that I hide away some where Closed so that if my lips part the murmurs are not Heard from outside ears that only understand laughter So I keep my small steps in napkins and ball them up from Site Because the running of tears is a secret tradition that only I can be present in.
Crying can be so beautiful
fictionisreal
Written by
Apr 21, 2013
Apr 21, 2013 at 1:28 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem