Tracks of My Tears

Tracks of My Tears

Every time I put it on, it runs down the hill.
I never had the knack of it, and now I never will.
Each eyelash might be clad in it, but in just a minute,
a tear goes streaking down my cheeks with my eye makeup in it.
It’s not that I am not adept. It goes on beautifully.
And I fan my new-made eyes ’til dry, dutifully.
Then I remember that a jerk is in the White House now.
At first I wonder why and then, I remember how
the majority of citizens voted for this churlish
oaf because the female candidate lacked being girlish.
Now eye makeup for me is simply something in the past,
for I can’t keep a dry eye over how our nation’s cast.
I have fears that for four years our nation will be limping,
so when it comes to eye makeup, I’m giving up my primping.
I think a lot of tears will flow down here in the dumps
now that the oval office officially is Trump’s.



The prompt today is “primp.”

One thought on “Tracks of My Tears

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