I called them teardrops, knowing well <br />that they would dropp without a thought <br />on tablecloths and counters and on me. <br />Boys do not cry she'd say, one must be strong, <br />remember he stood still, our Wilhelm Tell, <br />he shed no tear nor did he blink as well he ought, <br />it was an apple that remained, though not for me. <br /> <br />It ain't the radio when it plays a schmaltzy song, <br />nor will the scenes of any film affect my soul, <br />but when the lyrics from red lips oozed Demerol <br />I knew that tears had been the downfall of it all. <br /> <br />I watched those movies where the lacrimals are strained, <br />and did allow a few to fall onto my chest, <br />for better views the lights had been somewhat restrained, <br />no one would know Commiseration was a guest. <br /> <br />I heard from her, which is akin to God's okay, <br />it made me cry a bit, please do not tell a soul. <br />Perhaps I cry when it's convenient and okay, <br />it's up to you, my love, to really make me whole.<br /><br />Herbert Nehrlich<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/leaves-14/
