Such tears of pain,
of shame,
wiped from the page
smeared in ink stains.

If only she had known,
maybe these tears
would never have shown.

Screaming, fighting,
these seem such small issues.
As of now she cries, and grabs for tissues.

There had been no words said
of his pain, of his grief.
Why didn't he cry out!
Why couldn't he speak!

All that was left,
smeared words on a page.
Of his life
so short,
so lost in pain.

I Love You.
She whispered,
through tears she said.
As she sat there crying near the body of her son
from his own hand,
Dead.