The saddest is this poem
With no concrete words at all,
No form artificially employed,
Yet well-etched in solitude,
Dipped dried in blue blood
Bathed pure in cascading tears,
Repressed forever in secret
In the bits and beats of a heart.

Coagulated with melancholy,
It buds a better meaning of life,
Seeds of sadness are sown
For sorrow to sprout happiness,
Exonerating the poet’s faults -
Fancies, fantasies and romances.