Cry

Some complain over their uncomfortable habit of crying even at "the littlest things"
They even shame themselves over their tears upon mere subjects that are spoken of
Why is it that our natural instinct is to swallow the lump in our throat and nod
Will we ever achieve the level of expressing vulnerability that we now all bury within us

Remember that a river is full of ripples and melancholy drops joined together
And a river is such a beautiful thing---it is a steady union of trust in pebbles and waves
We all know it's hard to release that lump and let the drop slide down in a streak
But each little trickle is what makes a unified river that ripples on waves of trust

Because our tears could finally bring us together
If only we set them free