Now, you may cry when you look at them.
And not want to have anything to do with them.

The next time you look at them, some time later, you still cry.
But less.

And the next time you look at them, you cry yet a little less.
And you start to smile.

And so on, when you look at them as time goes by,
you cry a little less, and you smile a little more.

And then the day would come, when you look at them,
and you remember.
And smile.
And you cry no more.

-~-

You say the most beautiful of things sometimes.