Tears Unshed


Pictures make me cry; they do

Not the new ones, but the old ones do

They make me cry; the people’s eyes

They’re filled with tears; the kind that’s dry

One can know their silent sorrow

I can feel their painful soul

There’s pain and then there’s hurt

In that arbitrary pose

The eyes, they’ve never told

Lies of hidden secrets

The lips but have and still are

Those filthy bitter traitors

They curve though; that’s what they do

The lips; when a peek is taken

There’s a moment which is frozen

When a sordid photo’s taken

They stay that way; the lies or eyes

They tell me tales of thousands

They pour my soul with tears

And they make me cry as always

32 thoughts on “Tears Unshed

    1. thank you (I wish I knew your name so I could call U by it right now!! lol)
      you always write the nicest comments 🙂
      always makes my day!

      Peace for you

      1. My name is Gayle, Rose is my last name–thus the Bodhirose that I came up with years ago. So feel free to use my name, Sina.

        I’m happy that my comments lift your spirits! 🙂

  1. What a poem! Your poems are very beautiful, wise and insightful. its a great joy to read them.

    Shubho bijoyadashami (Happy Vijayadashami)! May the blessings of the Goddess shower down on you and your loved ones forever.

    1. wow that’s amazing of you to wish me such lovely wishes! I truly appreciate it and am sure we can use love of this kind every day through our day-to-day struggle.
      thanks Trish

  2. Isn’t it funny that pictures can let one observe so much more. But on the other edge of that same blade can they not let ones imagination run wild with each picture unfamiliar? Interesting thoughts came to me while reading this:-)

    1. they really do tend to show you many many things, they take your imagination to a very vivid world of colors and at times simply black and white. thanks for sharing your thoughts. i always enjoy!

  3. Absolutely Wonderful! I collect old black & white photos…they say so much and capture a piece of history yet they have so many unspoken stories that only the subjects themselves truly know.

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