Rhymes & Reasons

Entry LXV:

08.20.21

Like an empty canvas,
our future appeared uncertain.
No pastels to create
a masterpiece.
No brushes to paint our love.

Like clouds without the sun,
our days were all dull and gray.
No sunlight to give us another chance.
Promises made were melted by pouring rain.

Like trees without the wind,
our vows made no proper direction.
Stuck upon the branches of all my what-ifs,
I knew I had it bad with fate.

—georginariver