Tears That Dried Away (Poem)

With a quiescent mind, I glanced at the clouds,

Was anyone aware, or did they even care, about my whereabouts?

The sun was setting steadily, though my thoughts had just begun to trot,

You could have easily said, that I had cried a lot.

Even when all the leaves had rustled off, I didn’t quit hoping,

For hope was clearly a red herring, but still better than moping.

I had made up my mind, to never force an unrequited bond again,

To make efforts, but for only those who didn’t let them go vain.

Before trying tirelessly, to be good enough for everyone else,

It would be much more healing, to be good enough for oneself.

The cold wind swept right across my hair, as if trying to say,

That maybe there was beauty in vulnerability, and that made my tears dry away.