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The tangled tears of hurt

Through the misty eyes of midnight,

Come the tangled tears of hurt,

Wet pillow's edge where tear drops shed,

Turn cold like bitter words.


Where true love would never trespass,

Where warmer hearts desert.

See the cold and lonely nights of woe,

Through the tangled tears of hurt.


In the moon-cold light of 'nothing's right,'

A love that has no worth,

No future, prospect, aim or goal,

save the tangled tears of hurt.


Through the torment of the small hours,

Where thinking makes things worse,

As the clock tick tocks you can't switch off,

The tangled tears of hurt.

© Joseph G Dawson