The Scrambled Philosophies That I Call Thoughts

Even The Sky Cries Sometimes

These eyes of mine must hold their rain
Because from it, there is nothing we can gain
And from what I've seen of tears and blood
If I allow even a drizzle, there will be a flood

A/N: I wrote this poem a long time ago, but I'm sharing it for Poem In Your Pocket Day. Poem In Your Pocket Day is a day dedicated to poetry. You share your favorite poem with people, or write one to share. Even though this holiday will be over by the time I post this—I only post every other week because I only have wifi then (long story, but that's for another time)—please, please, please share my book in honor of this holiday! Poem In Your Pocket Day is on April 30th, so even though this day will have passed, you should write poetry any day of the year and share it! You all are poets at heart even though you may not think so. I just want you all to know that you're beautiful and artistic, and it's a blessing that people like you exist. Please share my book and have a wonderful Poem In Your Pocket Day!

Edited 10/15/15: I just reread this, and I hate the fact that I self-advertised. Like, how much more immature can you get? Therefore, ignore the previous author's note, and carry on with your lives. Well, why are you still here? You only have so many seconds in your life, you know? That's it, keep going...just scroll on to the next page...