Tears that run like bullets
Over my cheek they flee
They fall down harsh and cold
Until I can no longer see
They create this tidal wave
Of doubt, fear and regret
And just to remind me
I count the tears I’ve shed
In the bucket they fall
Thousand and thousand more
They run from my cheek
Down to that icy porcelain floor
In the floor I see myself
Crying and spilling tears
My lips shut and broken
As I hold back all my fears
The tears they yell their reason
Why the fell in the first place
They marvel the pain and sadness
As they run down my face
Some they are golden
And some tears are just black
But the tears that are the smallest
Carry the most weight on their back
This poem is very close to my heart, because sometimes the things I write speak words I can’t dare to say to somebody. And this one is an example of me writing what I felt that day. It’s a beautiful piece, but the reason that I think it’s so beautiful is because it’s about my own emotions. Therefor there is no picture.