The crust of your tears.

Of hidden gems
and fallen hurdles
the angels cry
with broken wings
Across the lake
of ghostly hearts,
the ebb tide
of love has gone.
Lovers old wither, decay,
the bed of tears
have all but dried,
only the crust
of salinity remains.

Reviews

[Chris Shaw]

How haunting and beautiful this little poem is Andrew to lost love. The title is wonderful. Reminds me of Smokey Robinson, the tears of a clown.

Chris

[Chris Shaw]

How haunting and beautiful this little poem is Andrew to lost love. The title is wonderful. Reminds me of Smokey Robinson, the tears of a clown.

Chris