TEARS

Two beads of water slither gently down,

Trickle along the little girl’s rotund face.
Will they dry like they did in past,
Or will they cascade like a waterfall.
A gentle breeze brings the curl of hair,

Scrubbing gently the small pearls away.

To some  they were droplets of perspiration,

Rest took them to be tears of joy.
Little do the bystanders know?
Another hungry day would bring
The same tears back to where they belong