It's nice to think of tears...like polliwogs swimming around excitedly

in watery eyes ready to evolve,

it's nice to think of sorrow as water,

all those tears escaping where

swelling pain had been,

It's nice to think our sorrow will soon

evaporate just like our tears, 

It's nice to think when we cry with our

mouths open and our shoulders bent,

and our hands were hanging down,

we are like polliwogs merely

evolving into a higher form,

it will take hours to know whether

we'll wake at dawn like our new

gardenous world,

we'll sit on lilly pads in nearby lakes

and philosophize about the

differences between swimming

and walking, sorrow and joy,

we'll look up at the skies dreaming

of the comfort and safety of

swimming in a mortal's watery eyes.