Meanwhile, Melody Muses…

Her tears pool and form rivulets of pain

She cries her body dry time and time again

And still they fall, inconsolable refrain

Of sorrow.

Her mind cannot remember a time

When sunshine made of her reason a rhyme

And she could truly live, not pantomime

Tomorrow.

She watches them fall with a sense of guilt;

If a monument to the world’s tears were built,

Hers would fill to disproportionate hilt

It’s space.

She isn’t aware that this healing rain

Recycles the feelings her soul can’t contain

And carves in the world , through heartfelt refrain,

Her place.