The Value of Your Grief

I was always told that tears,
Take the value from your grief,
Unless they’re shed in private,
Both unseen and rather brief.
You have to cage that misery,
Take a picture of its form,
Force your tears behind your eyes,
And hold in the raging storm.
That burning from your throat will sear,
So swallow it back down,
A lady, she must never show,
Her emotions in her frown.
You do just what they tell you,
But the end is never clear,
And when you meet the finish line,
You’ll wish you weren’t here.
With that wish comes misery,
That urge to wet your face,
But you have to suffer through it,
Since the world is a harsh place.
And when someone tries to comfort you,
And there’s weakness in your eyes,
You must fight back those tears again,
And wear a mask of lies.