Crying Poem by Philippa Lane

Sometimes I don’t understand
Why grownups cry,
Usually, when I do someone
Has been mean to me
But nothing at all seems
To make grownups cry.

For instance, last July, I got lost
In a supermarket.
It was bigger than the one
We usually shopped at
And suddenly I realized I had lost
My father.

I felt how I do when my teacher
Makes me stand up in class
For talking, sort of hot and cold,
So I began talking myself
Out of it, but it didn’t stop me
From bursting into tears.

I peered at all those passing faces
But they looked like ships
Bobbing in a sea of waves, one second
There and the next gone,
I wasn’t very brave you know.

Then a ldy stooped down and her nose
Almost touched mine
As she said she would help me find whoever
It was I had lost.

My hand was sticky from eating candy,
But she put it in hers
So I knew she was a motherly type
And I was glad.

But just then, I saw my Dad
By the Frozen Foods
And rushed to him.

When I looked back to thank her
With a smile,
She was standing in the same place
Watching us,

With tears falling down her face.
I don’t know why.
I wasn’t crying any more.