Weepy

Weepy, weepy
sometimes I'm weepy
and I don't even know why?
The tears just come.
Where are they from?
I don't even know why I cry.
Too sensitive,
too intuitive
I seem to feel other's sorrow.

I'd beg, steal or borrow
to stop all my tears
that seem to flow easier
as I go through the years.
Compassion's contagious.
I find it outrageous
to cry at the dropp of a hat.

Why can't I be stoic
and keep it inside?
I'm weepy and so I have cried
a river of tears,
an ocean of emotion,
especially when friends have died.

Weepy, weepy
sometimes I'm weepy
and the tears that come
I can't hide.

poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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