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This is a poem about leaving a delicate flower home, to follow a dream |
| With a ragged bag and a sack, I am leaving you to chase a dream… Dry your tears, my dear; no more wail. No more songs of grief, No more tired bones and tired soul. Just dry your tears. How she died awhile ago and father stayed, and made us howl Like ghastly wolf, a creature of the night. The food we scrounged on The floor, when your tummy cried… my eyes cried. But dry your tears little one… just dry your tears, I have words in a bag, a dream in a sack. I have stories and novels Poems and tears. Remember the sweater I gave you, when even fury dogs Would freeze? I lied when I said ‘I felt heat, I just ate or I just smiled – you missed it.’ Close your eyes, and do not stare at my back, not tattoos, just Scars on my back, disfigurements I wear. But dry your tears little one… just dry your tears. Hold on! Even when wolves are circling, knaves are preying And God is loping deaf. There are stars and there are blooms that Even we shall see. Just dry your tears my little one… just dry your tears. |