Artificial Tears

Artificial Tears

Bottle glass clear,

you glimmer in my hand.

A drop to soothe the eye,

but not the soul within.

Artificial tears fall,

they mimic what is true.

Yet they cannot carry,

the heaviness I feel.

They trick the world around me,

as if no sorrow lives.

But the ache in my heart,

remains untouchable.

I long for real weeping,

that cleanses like the rain.

Instead I pour these false ones,

like actors on a stage.

How empty is the gesture,

to cry without a wound.

To shine with imitation,

while pain burns in silence.

Artificial tears glisten,

they shine upon the cheek.

But they are hollow water,

with no voice of their own.

I keep the bottle near me,

as if it guards the truth.

Yet truth needs no glass vessel,

truth demands its fall.

So let the false tears blur,

and wash away their lie.

For only real sorrow,

can heal a broken heart.