- cramergr
- Mar 25, 2022
- 2 min read
Updated: Mar 25, 2022
What is it about crying
that can take our breath,
certainly the arrival
of dreaded dark death.
The different types
like tears of joy,
from sweet baby girls
or a playful little boy.
So many sources
with accounts untold,
both good and bad
at times hard to withhold.
How are they started
what are your triggers,
good times or bad
or multiple alcoholic jiggers.
This I must confess
it’s sad but true,
a tear has watered my beer
when I was sad and blue.
Maybe like me
witnessing a Flash Mob,
viewing a sunrise or sunset
that cause me to sob.
Hearing a song
like Amazing Grace,
or the sound of taps then
gone without any trace.
The sound of bugle or
amazing Scottish bag pipes,
tugging at ones heart
with delicate swipes.
These mysterious attacks
that delve our souls,
sometimes fulfilling
sometimes leaving holes.
Where are they rooted
where did they begin,
sitting and growing
with joy or sin.
How can it happen
from deep within self,
rushing up so fast
from a vast memory shelf.
It’s said by some a mere
cleansing of the eyes,
but what of the hurt
and the emotional ties.
For they speak from
deep within the heart,
like a vein of gold
from where do they start?
Young boys are told
a man doesn’t cry,
if that is the case
then they shouldn’t sigh.
So rich and shining
a reflection of life,
showing both joy
and the pain of strife.
A doctor I’m not
human anatomy unclear,
how are they linked
no answer coming I fear.
But this I know
without any a doubt,
I’d much rather cry
than give a loud shout.
So brace your humanity
shed that enriched tear,
open up your heart
without nary a fear.
Let it roll down
your soft cheek,
to tell the whole world
see my heart speak.
Gary R. Cramer
February 16, 2020