Do black tears fall from brown faces
and beautiful cocoa eyes?
Can deep pain be disguised?
Hear a word to the wise –
there is no weakness in our cries;
for only God knows
how hard we fight and try,
how we seriously strive,
while constantly upholding
bold links to our old pride;
facing hidden foes
from whom we cannot hide;
reviving the broken pieces
of our soul that dies
when it is slain
enduring psychic pain
and then laid aside.
Do black tears fall from brown faces
onto moist cocoa skin?
Do they feel like the same tears
cried before
now cried again?
If I turn my wet face to the wind
and grin
will that somehow change the spin –
cut loose of loss and capture win?
The analysis and reasoning begin
to wear thin, over time, in my mind.
Do black tears fall from brown faces
late at night,
mostly hidden from common sight
until the next day’s light
pierces the secret veil
and exposes a rejuvenated sorrow,
longing for a brighter tomorrow?
Or do black tears fall from brown faces
tenderly kissed by the sun
before the journey had begun
in a sacred place
where the salt of the earth
wait for the season of rebirth?
Do black tears fall?