When the skies drop a tear,
I hold it..
I treasure it.
As the drop sways and tries to wriggle from my fingers,
I hold it more tightly.
Unable to let the joys spread in every direction.
I keep it close to my heart.
I run from the world, to the outer space
To bury it far away
From the inevitable future.
To share it,
Was not an option.
I haven’t found you yet.
You will never receive a piece of heaven
That I have struggled to hold it.

You may call me a demon,
Gritting your teeth,
Clenching your fists,
I see the animosity.
Do not come close to me.
For you will steal,
Not the tear from the sky
But the stable fingers holding it.


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