Salt Flat

There’s a salt flat behind my eyes,
for the tears that I have never cried.
Melted by the sun of your smile.

As my heart is dried by
the salt shoed shufflers,
stepping on dreams denied.

Shame masked mufflers;
run with their stolen
carrion clutching their souls.

Though I may be freeze dried,
your sunshine warms me,
oh well they tried.

Now frustration’s their friend
to my tormentors a fitting end.