The tears, they fall.

Hot and rapid, cascading flakes. Peeled from the wounds of words, they mark the attacks induced on the soul by blades hardened with hate.

And the tears, they fall.

Unbiased words spun into weapons, piercing the flesh. Dirty, lazy, wetback - serrated arrows inflicting impairment to body and mind.

And the tears, they fall.

The ache growing numb, the skin thickening into scars. The jagged edges dulling.

And the tears still fall.  

No longer from pain, but from the understanding that there exists a force of ignorant hatred strong enough to cause such blunt pain.