A single teardrop fell from the sky.
It tumbled through the air.
It fell onto my hand and surprised me,
When it stayed quite still there.
I peeked into the teardrop
And gasped at what I saw,
Beautiful tales of suffering and dreams,
Of life and all its flaws.
It told stories of sadness, stories of hope,
And stories of yearning to be free.
It told stories of struggling to prove people wrong
And of making your own destiny.
Then suddenly the teardrop became a small puddle,
As if it had no more to say.
Then another teardrop fell from the sky,
And on it went in this way.
Now whenever I happen to see
Teardrops falling from the sky,
I always stop to gaze and listen
To all the stories hidden inside.
© Jade M. Wong
Reposting. This was one of the first poems I ever wrote and remains one of my personal favorites.