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When tears come, they do not come as water in the eyes, they comeas children you have lost, beautiful faces of tears falling pastinto lives that you shall never know. You want to call upon the stars,to bid them gaze upon them, filling them with light, faces of childrenupon your cheeks slipping away. How could it be that tears have lives,seeking mothers, seeking consolations of the dark -- tearsthat lie in pieces in every room you move within? Tears are notwhat we wanted to say, they are the children for whom we had no words.

© Blodgett E. D.