to the low

This deep felt trail of hidden tears they stream my heart In wells of sadness From ages laden with heavy pain Of nameless faces through this earthly space The tear that rises from bolts of silence Waiting to be felt like joyous rain Upon the soul it flies unscathed Like leaves that fall upon our toil To rest upon this tattered pillow I lay my head to rest at night And wonder if these sounds of sorrow Must come from one and the same 4/22/11 ….. beatriZ


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