Inspired by Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer’s poem, “Gold Medal”
“Don’t cry,” they said. “They wouldn’t want you to be sad.”
So, I hid my tears in the solitude of my room,
away from prying eyes.
Not wanting to upset someone else.
Wanting to appear strong for those who counted on me.
For I remember seeing the infrequent tears of my parents,
and how distressing it was for me.
But hiding my sorrow was a disservice
to those I love and myself.
For crying and strength are compatriots,
part of being human.
And though I’ve been a sensitive soul
who has wept easily most of my life,
I no longer feel the need to be in the closet.
For there are so many things that bring tears to my eyes.
Acts of kindness are always at the top of the list.
The songs that touch my heart,
sometimes for their mere beauty
or because they bring back a bittersweet memory.
The beauty that exists in nature.
Or tears that come unbidden when I ache
for my loved ones who are no longer here.
Being my authentic self means
that not only am I free to express my tears,
but I also laugh from the depth of my being,
and love with the intensity of a million suns.
Beautiful Bittersweet Life Poems 