maybe i'll stick with the programme
keep watch this is gonna get even better

Weeping - my poem

Keeping a stiff upper lip I refused to let them flow,
Like my inner child trapped by my adult emotions
the salty tear-ducks were dry.

I remember thinking
If i start
Who will stop them? , yawning from My dreams
I kept them bottled deep, the cap firmly tightened.

My message was in that bottle unopened
Truly fixed and set apart
But cracks began to appear on the outside
There I was looking in,
An observer to my own emotions.

I wondered had I become these emotions
Or had these emotions become Me
I   more...was a void , empty but full
A vacuum to my own event
Storing them up.

I wept though my eyes never shed a tear
They evolved like whirlpools
Stopping every once in a while to catch my breath
Drowning in my weeping
As evenings slip away I was relieved.

No-one ever saw me cry
Not even I.

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