Resting on the edge of her misty eyes
Holding itself from rolling down
A tiny droplet of hurtful emotions
Yet, deep enough for your soul to drown.
Perfectly aware of her sufferings and grief
The minuscule drop lead a vehement protest
Refusing to take the agonizing journey
It stood still with feelings suppressed.
Compliance won the battle though
As the teardrop could no longer restrain
It travelled down from where it stood
With a sense of guilt for adding to her pain.
With a stable mind and heavy heart
She gently traced the droplet’s trail
Softly whispered to the caged emotion,
“Your connotation is far from frail.”
Not always does it represent misery
The teardrop often speaks another tale
A story of subdued valor and strength
A vital side that usually remains under the veil.
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