August 17,1989. Three days , my grandmother has been dead. My first encounter with the law. Caught stealing bikes and she hadn't even been buried yet."Mom rolling over in her grave", that's what my aunt said. I had no understanding of this. I still hadn't shed a single tear. My grandmother used to say," Crying won't bring the dead back". I sat in that police station wondering how much trouble I'm in and what my family will think of me. I didn't understand why I couldn't cry for the only person that had ever loved me in my life thus far. I was like a drought, dry eyes. Maybe it was inside that I cried..

Inside I Cry

A smile on the outside, but on the inside I cry..
The laughter you hear is just a clever disguise..

No more or less problems than anyone else..
Just playing the hand, that I have been dealt..

Living in this world, like everyone born of sin..
As long as my faith is strong, I know I will win..

Never receiving a burden that I couldn't bare..
When everyone else is gone, God is still there..

I'm building up reaes of joy, because on the inside I cry..
These tears will surely flow, when Jesus does arrive..

So many who's, what's, when's, how's and why's ..
God is the answer to why I cry inside..

© Cuzo45