A hungry child cries in the darkness,
another mute Poet, in silence weeps-
Rose petals fall on earth's barren soil,
but the pain in life, is for all to keep

Who's tears are they that find the cheek,
of the soul that never speaks?
The deafened Poet; The child of man;
the power from a storm, turned weak?

A frightened child, found alone and cold,
The Poet refuses to see-
Prickly thorns on the vines, they die;
beneath the sadness of the willow tree

An angry young man, in this world he finds,
the Poet in his own reflection-
Mountains crumble at his cracked dry feet,
for all he's ever known, is rejection

Who's tears are they that stained the page,
the Poet or the Man?
Or was it the child left alone to cry,
finding a way to release the rage?

© Lisa Hilbers
5/5/05