Tears were her last resort
As every cloud was fresh out of rain
So she summoned all of her sadness
Releasing it in pitter patters of pain

The teacup could only smile
As the droplets fell one by one
Now holding the valuable elixir
He beamed for what he had done

© 2025 Michelle Cook

Sometimes we just need to pour out our pain and it’s nice when someone invites us to do that. Thank you to those who have. 😉 ~M xoxo

*For those of you who are curious about the title, I’ve decided to write a series of poems from the perspective of objects, exploring how they might help us if we listen to their unspoken wisdom. I hope these little poems will help you think about ways you can help yourself in a world where each of us may often feel alone.

Photo generated with AI