Four lines and an Empty Space

This is the place where I go
to express the pure nature of
tears.

I am only human, and as I walk along the
corridor of trees, I'm constantly reminded
of sorrow,
weeping willows are my spirit calling
so it's only natural to water trees
when life breaks my heart.

I'm tired,
the lines in my face
are mere shadows of
what bathes beneath
the smile I share-

but when I write, it's
a place where I go to
express the side of me
that people judge,
sharing the mystical
and rather odd musings
that stir up inside.

I've shelved years of regret,
remorse and endless mistakes
masking them in metaphors
but the misery leeks onto paper
eventually.

I am thankful for the blessings
that raindrops leave behind,
the solitary sparrow has
passed away, and the poet
in me is dying.

Nothing pretty about sadness-
if I continue to hold in painful
memories, it shall be buried
within the grey that greets me in
the mirror each morning-
visual poems covered up
with hair dye...

Cloaked and naked,
hidden inside this virtual
box, crying my eyes out
in a poem, nothing poetic
about that,
but it sure feels better
to let it go....