tears

(here's a poem about being a bit upset...)

the little soldiers of self pity
when they come a-quick marching near
to make up a home in your city
of disappointment and lost fears

they'll scream and they'll shout, you'll lose all your mates
they'll take what they want, and your cheer.
so don't:
let them in,
keep them out,
bar the gates!
and remember to hold yourself...
dear.