Tuesday, May 24, 2011


When you cry instead of sleep,
They will say that you are weak;
But maybe it is your strength
That got you to the edge of slumber.

As the world's judgements
Smash you to little bits
And you collapse into your bed,
The act of lying down,
Determined to rest,
To fight another day,
Is surely victory enough.

So, if tears caress your cheeks
In the absence of any other sympathy,
Who can criticise you?
For now ... no-one.
Tomorrow ... everyone.

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