Tears

Everything little word

Is a runaway paper aeroplane

Flying on chance

I remember the times

When I used to sit

On the benches

And not have to stare

Into the distance

To distract myself

From the cold

Where I always had

The truth that I could

Borrow your warmth

The skies are grey now

And as winter arrives

From the dreary depths of

The past

I must soon envisage

The trust I once had

In chance

And assume it to be useful

For my hope has flown away

From my icy soul

To a warmer place

It seeks you, or

So my softly spoken pain

Shall live on

In stormy silence

But I tell you now

I whisper this

Into your arms

If you wish to find me

Once I am lost in hopelessness

Then first

Realise this

You must find my heart

Hiding from your flames