I often wonder, what is a tear?
To all extents; it's meaning.
Of all intentions, what is a tear?
To all extents, with all intent,
So glorious, and yet so demeaning.
A tear in laughter? A tear in hate?
Confused am I in my mind.
Holding strong, do tears in my laughter,
Saving for times, These sort of times,
When laughter is not what they find.
A pain in my mind, aches in my soul,
Hours awake in my bed.
Distraught of intentions, this kind of intention,
When holding strong, These tears of my grief,
Do start the wonder in my head.
This painful wonder, this wonder of tears,
This confusion preceded by scoldings,
I'm sure I will miss, In dark of intent,
These tears that I was previously holding.