The Teardrop

I'm experimenting with a new style with using the poetry to create simple images...This one is a teardrop, on a poem about tears

A

tiny

single

streaming

tear, flows out

from his eyes, just

As he begins to hear

The man says he is gone

Never to return to his lonely son

That in the midst of battle, his father

Was the first that won. The man left, gone

To tell other families the news, and more tears

Were to be cried that day, by more than just a son

The next was his wife, or widow she is called now

With blonde hair, but her blue eyes were not found

A mother and a father, who lost their only child

The ceremony was held, a sad, somber one

No tears were cried, except by the son

When all was over, said and done

The son ran to his room

And began to cry

Again