The tears collector

The tears collector

On the boat
Calmly working oars
He'd visit islands, collecting tears and sorrows
A tiny glass container in his worn out hands
Seeing folks' mournful faces, lips whispering the secrets

For years, collecting precious liquid of souls
Believing it can save the locals from nature's revenge
The naive man, helpless to stop bizarre provincial sacrifices
An offering of the young bride to the groom sea
Or a stubborn artist, refusing to paint the water blue

By taking away the tears from people
Nothing was changed in their conduct
They'd cry, confess, unloading the weight
And start anew the superstitious business
Sinning and praying at the same time...like drinking vodka with a heart pill

He got tired of seeing death's lamenting presence
Powerless to stop the true essentiality of people
Always blaming misfortunes on someone weaker
Always seeking a scapegoat in a dire situation
So he left them , not wanting to play at their own game

Saying "I am too old for this nonsense "
Those tears were fake as fake news spreads the lie
The kernel of the human character has too many flaws

by Margaret Gudkov