Fresh tears
Frsh tears i cry every day
waiting for it to stop
waiting for the cool down
every day apart of me gets washed away
washed away in the vast ocean of tears
the tears never stop
and i get hotter and hotter
soon i will cry away the dryland
flooding cities with my tears of sorrow
as they listen to my tears and brush me off as if i was nothing
like i was some sort of myth
so i cry my fresh tears
crying out for a saver
This poem is about:
Our world
Guide that inspired this poem: