Thoughts on Crying

Life doesn’t have any meaning;

All I do is cry,

And it will never end.


Did I only come to this Earth to cry?



It is a strange word, to cry.

It seems to rip apart the silent space

To let emotions through,

Raw and garbled;

The wailing of an infant,

It brings to mind.

It achieves nothing,

Is only an outburst,


If I could channel this feeling,

To make something new,

Instead of ever-decreasing circles.



They say crying on your own

Is the worst thing

Because there’s no-one to see your tears.

I prefer to think of it

As a petition to God.




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