Tears

• Madeline Browney, Grade 7
• Poetry
• 2010

My eyes prickle, and I know the tears are coming.
I don't try to wipe them away,
I am unashamed.
I stop walking as they cloud not only my vision, but my thoughts too.
My head leans into his shoulder, and the tears flow.
I sob relentlessly into his arms.
"Hush," he says, and tilts my chin towards him,
And he steals my tears away.
"For you are safe with me."