a bit of poetry

This is in honor of Mrs. Rose, i wrote it in class.

My little griefs I give
To the overwhelming rivertide
of love: which I do not understand.
That like a thousand dewdrops
My metaphors drop
into the absentmindedness: of loss.

Only in the depth of pain are we made.
Like a hand finally relaxed
Against the tensions of time.
And even the deepest joys are my sufferings-
Crystalized by love.
Born again in the death of life.

And grief of wild despair
Is the hope
That I feel death, because
love has born fruit on this earth.