A Good Cry

I sit in the dark

just needing a good cry

not a simpering cry

and not a self pity cry,

a cry that is deep within

that comes from a place

of despair and grief.

It lingers on my eyes

as tears well up

the heavy feeling

trying to make sense

and so I write

the catharsis of words

seeking to expose

the thorns of dismay.

I have so many

unfinished sentences

paragraphs with no end

pieces of poetry that hang

and my tears come

a reflection of the pain

seeking grace 

as each drop falls

watering the ground

of my life

each drop

a part of the story

that I bear 

my own Cross

in the sacrifice 

offered each day.

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