The Tears Hidden In My Handkerchief

The first of April. I close my eyes, squeeze them shut and shake my head. That was a sad, sad day to remember. My eyes sting but I refuse to give way to the sorrow. At least for now I will keep them away. I can’t take it anymore. I fall to my knees in front of the window. I sob miserably in the light of the lightening as it storms outside. My heart aches as I remember April the first and the tears hidden in my handkerchief.