Tears


             
          It
         runs          In
        slowely       it's 
        down my      elonga- 
         cheek.     ted soft    
                    shape is 
                     my sad-
                      ness.  
          To
         re-           So    
        lease         why
       the pain      do you 
       in my he-     keep me   
        art for      making  
         ever.        more?   

 
10/92

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all poems copywrited by Becky Goodrich
all rights reserved, not to be used without
expressed written consent