Poetry

I read abstracts of several poets or writers or friends and I cry.

I cry because I never thought I could feel what was being described.

I cry because my core has been broken.

I cry because I can feel.

I cry because I realize beautiful things.

I cry because I finally acknowledge humanism.

I cry because at last I can discern the indirect meanings.

I cry because I don't want to accept the fact that I can't change what has happened.

I cry because I know that it's my duty to change what can possibly happen.

I cry because..

Because I can.