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An ode to tears

 Life death and the many trivialities in between 

mere statistics, we choose to laugh, for tears,

tears they are precious, not to be spent, 

not to be spent on trivialities - mere perils,

the perils of ordinary existence, don't deserve -

the pearls of sorrow,  twinkling gems of defeat,

the trickling nectar of despair,  melodies of silence,

mere perils of life don't deserve these precious tears.

We choose to laugh when tears betray us, 

not for we rejoice, but for tears are precious.

When the face of death lies on our doorstep,

not to receive us but a part of us, we must then,

and only then pay our debts, our veneration - 

with our most beloved, our most precious tears.


But aren't they companions, those ordinary tears - 

that unlike the frugal laughs of harrowing emptiness,

are like a benevolent ocean, a friend in loneliness,

a charm for the heaving soul, that fills it not with hopes -

the hollow hopes of better times, but with reminiscences,

of the times we were full, unscathed, pure and grateful - 

grateful to those whom we touched - not mere numbers,

they remind us of who we were - they reveal our stains.

Those little ordinary drops reveal our pasts - like spectres

spectres of all who came before us and became our parts -

not mere statistics, but our eternal companions.

Unlike ephemeral men and women - mere numbers - 

who encircle our trivial meaningless existence,

they are eternal companions - those little ordinary tears.


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