Forgotten-

Forgotten-

Spare me the tears.

Just…

Please do!

I wish I could…

Oh! I envy the

single

sweetest tear. So,

yes, spare me the tears.

Oh you! With bright sad eyes

weep and cry no more.

The man has spoken within

the river deep.

A soul

unkempt; a ruin of fear.

To dare the tear

to fall,

fall, fall,

Oh! Waterfall.

Fall down

and shatter

and swirl within the void of me.

Alas, I wish to cry.

Ah!

But to cry, is a thing most unpleasant.

A tear

shed,

sheds the rigid frame of the man.

It burns 

            not to see

mine own eyes glean.

Fall, fall,

Oh waterfall!

Bless me this day,

and yes

please, spare,

spare me your wretched tears.

The tears

I have

have not

forgotten long ago.

Lights appear.

Two,

two lights

rush past

and then again

rush past again.

Fleeting and yet…

returning visible visitors of the night.

Spinning brushes sweep,

sweep,

dearly sweep the road

as the street-sweeper-sweeping-man

drives slowly along.

I fear the day that

my worn eyes

might see-

Oh yes!

They might see a new precipitant-

a participant in a misery so delightful-

a soft smooth tear

that spared

I am.

Spared?

Or

Disenfranchised?

Stolen?

Begotten tears!

Oh yes!

A sweet smell,

the-yes-of-a-new-day,

a glamorous,

eventful,

wonderful,

a sad-yes-a-new-yes-a-new-munificent-day.

Oh! So,

spare me the tears-

lest I remember how it feels

-how it feels

-how it falls,

Glorious waterfall!

falling down the chasm of

my rigid desiderate façade.

A spring not forgotten

within the empty wells of

mine eyes.

I pray

that you spare,

spare me your tears,

and smile.

Oh! The smile,

the false and insincere,

but

alas

smile.

For, yes, it is better to see

than not to feel the liquid

forgotten tear!