"Cry Again"
There are a great, great many,
Who’d think me meek.
Unable to stand even move,
After such a task that left me weak.
Ever a tiding of ill news,
I am neither, weak or meek.
There is only a sort of truth,
That I seek.
Not a form of absolution,
Just simply some recognition.
I mean I tossed my soul on the line,
For the simplest bit of recognition.
Yet I'm the foolish one,
Left out freezing to death in the cold,
When all I really sought was another heart,
To hold.
There are a great, great many,
Who’d think me meek.
Unable to stand even move,
After such a task that left me weak.
So many imagine me broken.
How surprised they’d be.
Shattered beyond belief.
Then only,
To shed tears with me in my relief.
The best stories,
Are always born to re-begin.
And these are eyes that will never,
Cry again.
Dg
Danny Gunter
01-25-2012
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