The water is pouring.
She hears a fountain in the distance,
Like the rain in the storm.
She looked for the fountain,
She searched and searched.
But never got closer,
Than the old white church.
She heard it get louder and louder,
But never nearer.
She found the mirror,
Then it all became clear,
The water was tears,
And the fountain was her eyes.
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Poems For Life
PoesíaRandom poems that I write at random times. just thought I should put them to good use. Please follow me.
