graffity

Monday, July 31, 2006

Tears...

They flow on cheek,
They are silent and are weak,
Wet and light on the spring,
They sparkle like gems on a ring,
They are brief as a dream,
But they taste of a salty stream,
They neither speak nor make a sound,
Nobody has know, nobody has found,
What are these, I think I know,
Yes these are tears I know, I know…