A CRY FOR FREEDOM © 2008

What I did best in life

Was to cry, cry, cry,

Each tear a wound

That taught me how to walk.

Crying was my purest act,

Without masks, without pretense,

And in the silence of that dark,

I found solace in lament.

Tears, rivers of pain and redemption,

Cleansed the weary soul of its fight,

And in the crying, I found a prayer,

That words could never quite reach.

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