The Crying Game

Crying Game
by Kelly B Jones


tonight, i cried.
and I couldn't stop.

I cried for the young man whose pain caused him to gamble his existence.
I cried for all the people that I've hurt and all the people that have hurt me.
I cried of the uselessness of our daily desperations.
I cried of how so much effort can often succumb to nothingness
I cried of words that are too afraid to be uttered out of mere pride.
I cried of my dissatisfaction of my surroundings and my inability to escape them.
I cried for the eyes that have seen things eyes shouldn't.

I cried for the blind man that waits on that bridge everyday.
And of the newborn who sleeps with one foot in a puddle.
And of the lobby lady who hides behind her makeup mask, waiting for someone who never comes.
And for that old man who never needs help. But needs it.

I cried for those who always help others but never themselves.
I cried for the shmoozers and the chasers and the climbers.
I cried for the mother who smiles for her children,
The sister who doesn't recognise her beauty
And for the father with regrets.
I cried of the pathetic existence of myself compared to these warriors.

I cried of - Oh fuck it.

I just wanted to cry.