I drank the tear from my bloody eye,
Definition belongs to vitalized sight,
They say the future can’t be seen,
But, it can be imagined.

I felt the tear freeze over my mouth,
Shocking my hands into outbound shouts,
I once heard poets hadn’t much worth
To reality’s truths, that they wrote of Emotions,
Actually, they write of Humanity.

I shook the tear from my fingertip,
Sent it forth with troubled wish,
Trembled, as it struck the ground, and rippled
With motionless sound, through layers of skin.
I listened to abandoned tears, echo into my ears,
I couldn’t believe it was me...that I still heard.

Erin Elizabeth Kelly-Moen
© Copyright 11/1/03