Tears

[Guest guest]

My broken heart is

always wandering away.

Sometimes I find it

beside a baby

in a dumpster.

Sometimes next to

a starving child

in the street

of an uncaring city.

Sometimes close to

a mother who has

learned her son

was lost

in a senseless war.

Always with the lonely,

forgotten ones

in pain and sorrow.

What can I do

but bring it home?

Knowing

it will wander again,

seeking to cry

for those who've

run dry of tears.

 

Mace