Author Information
Nobody Catches Their Teardrops
For some money, the little child has stretched a hand,
Against mine, I can suddenly sense,
He looks so hungry and tired,
The teardrops of his sister are about to collapse.
Some have the luxury of catching raindrops,
Those flood-stricken grab relief,
An infant is happy seizing its mother’s fingers,
A special phenomenon that does lessen her grief.
But, do we amplify our hearts honestly,
For those whose teardrops perish hopelessly?
