Tears . . . tears form in my brain,
But do not reach my eyes . . .
(Perhaps I love in vain,
For I know all love dies.)

In memories that last,
They cling to words spoken;
In thinking of the past,
Bear dreams that are broken.

They scan each vow you made,
Imagine each part of you,
See each vow, slowly, fade,
With no existing clue.

They cry, helpless, in pain,
For now, although each tries –
Imprisoned by my brain –
They will not reach my eyes!