PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Tears,

they carry weight,

more than saltwater breaking the dam—

they are the liquid syntax of our soul.

Unspoken words

blur the edges of vision,

and we tremble, not from weakness,

but from the quake of something deeper,

a chasm opening wide.

Sadness. Overwhelm. Rage. Joy.

It all pools into one common thread

invisible until it spills

across our cheeks.

Yet, society fears this flood,

as if emotions shouldn't break the surface.

We wear our stoicism like armour,

but real strength is in the unraveling.

In the wet confession

we try to blink away.

To cry is to translate

what words could never say,

to let the body speak

its native tongue,

pure, raw, unrefined.

Don't shut the floodgates.

Tears know the way.

They navigate the jagged landscapes

of grief, of joy, of loss, of rage,

dripping into the open wounds

we pretend are healed.

They tell us what we refuse to hear,

so we bow to them,

not in defeat, but in reverence,

for every tear is an offering

of truth we cannot bear alone.