Dear Tear Dove
who does sit upon your callous wall,
You have feathered your beguiled greetings
and innocent farewells.
Know in your silent pity that there is hope.
That there shall be no blackbirds
who would hang you by a rope
or count the fleas upon your back,
nor further gnaw at your neck.
When the world shall no longer deride nor pity, will they come to you distraught with forgiveness?
No more pecks like a gobbled goose or slashes like a drowning cat on its last chance
they shall surely commit reprieve once society no longer satisfies and feels no more or less
once the world wearies and grows tired of itself, they shall no more merely glance
But your goodbye for now is a second chance. Forgive us, for we are merely angels in the rain.
Covers cannot shelter us nor can the rain wash away our guilt; but yet just a tear,
from wings so lovely and eyes so dear,
can seek our deeper souls and cleanse our veins
Your days aren’t easy, as they have been once before;
but you will endure.
These days aren’t easy anymore.