The teardrops are cold
and I coulden't count them if i tried;
one for every holiday hug i've missed
and ten more follow in guilt
for the sins that i could not resist;
a fear of feeling pain, I guess.
And then there are the tears
birthed from my own selfishness...
my emotions are hidden
in the glare of a red light.
The walls are bare;
I just replay pictures of images in my mind;
not a single frame of happiness in sight
and these are the times I really cry
when I'm smiling...
because I've got some angels close by...