There exists a salt that is created by the frictions of life,
These crystals come down when all you've seen is strife;
This purity is not rare,
But when they come, you wish they weren't there.

There was a time my mother fought back
The sympathy that these crystals lack;
They enticed me into a world of my own,
But for my mother, my strength I will always loan.

She taught me that these crystals lie,
They won't save you when you see a loved one die,
Their fluidity may seem divine,
But their wetness lacks a shine.

These crystals are the small tears,
That come up when we see our fears;
My mother taught me to grow,
With all her sadness, only love for me did she show.

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A lot of people are writing collections of poetry about their lives on here, and I always write poetry with a bit of what I have gone through in life, so I thought it wouldn't be too bad of an idea!

Dayla

updated Sep 8 '09 by d.f.m