Cry Baby

I once knew a guy that would cry
He’d cry and he’d cry and he’d cry
Leaving puddles of spears disguised as tears

Just so you’d feel his pain

And perhaps it was the gum stuck under his shoes
That made him cling onto every single thing
That ever graced: the ground, the basement and the balcony

And with every finger you’d flip synonymous with, “Get over it,”
It would never be enough to swallow his pride
Which is fine, I’d much rather devour his entire being …