Poetry - High School Third Place

Tears of Grief

5/12/2008 - By Heather Wentworth

He’s kneeling at my feet Holding my hands and Begging me in a Pleading, tear-stained voice; Please, you have to bring her back. I tell him again that I can’t. In his grief, he does not hear me. Tears start sliding down his face. I can see he misses his girlfriend, But nobody, not even me, can bring the dead back. He has quit begging me, but His tears make me sad. I bend down and hug him And his tears sink through my shirt And burns my skin with the Grief and misery and sadness contained in them.