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Tears Waiting
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Tears in waiting, anticipating
the prisoner to call. Words in
service to the papers flung
like hand cream against
a brittle decaying wall.
Someone thinking, maybe
drinking the rest of the
night away. Preferring
happiness, finding it a
metaphor for thoughts
that are dwelling on a
battleground.
Wishes happening, the
first choice is always
the easiest. Lock the
door and throw away
the key. Walk away,
that is the answer to
tears waiting to form.
This is interesting, it read well, but I'm not sure the title and poem match well.