Poezja

On the verge of tears
Is not a happy place
Its one of great distress
And one of huge disgrace
 
The feeling in your chest
Heavily weighing you down
The tears hanging from your eyes
And the ever deepening frown
 
And sits in side your throat
And you hold in its spot
As you try not to scream
I t steadily grows hot
 
Your breath begins to shorten
Becoming short and hollow
The tears stream down your face
They never wait to follow
 
You’ll from now till later
And slowly feeling better
As you do feel better
Your shirt will feel much wetter