Worth

Those tiny pearls fall from the eyes

And settles well on an aching heart

Sacred gems of precious emotions 

The one who sheds also collects 

The lost pain finds its bearer again

Every drop carries a longing wish 

Labelled hopes, Ernest’s desires

Jewellery made of grieving tears

On display yet finds no buyers 

One last time, the griever aspires

A final gift to the uncaring world 

A sole ornament of raw sentiments 

The valued artefact ever to be worn around

One to be Loved, admired and appreciated  

Oddly, centuries after its maker is dead! 

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