I wept a tear Like a little tune, A tear for an ache to croon. A quiet tear That lay on grief Like dew on a desperate leaf. I chose cool words That spoke of fire, Metaphor matched desire. I chose light words That spoke of pain In glib, iambic strain. I chose two nouns And an adjective To make my pale tear thrive. I urged my tear To an unctuous rhyme, And sold it for a dime. I sold the tear That wept for you; It's a thing that poets do. |