My Bottle
Those tears I cry,
Drip down my face,
And wet my hands,
But I know there headed to a greater place,
Just like I one day,
There caught in a bottle,
And held,
In a secret room, in my masters kingdom,
Each bottle,
A different color,
A different shape,
A different shade,
But each bottle represents its keepers,
For it holds your tears,
Mine might be full,
Mine might be almost empty,
One day I shall look,
When I join my maker in a greater place,
I will wear white,
And be beautiful in every way,
And I will spend my days searching,
High and low,
For that room that I know,
Holds those bottles,
Bottles of tears,
Not one missed,
Not one gone,
Every tear I ever shed,
Shall be kept in that bottle,
And when I find it,
I shall open my bottle,
And pour all its sadness over me,
For, I know,
That those tears cant hurt me there.