Poetry Blossoms Within

Sheltered Storm

I hold this umbrella tight, a shield from the storm,
A canopy of memories, where my heart has been worn.
It's a weathered shield, a shelter from the rain,
A cover for the sorrows, a fortress for my pain.

This umbrella's been with me through thunder and hail,
Through the torrent of tears, through the weight of my fail.
It's not just a barrier; it's a dark, looming cloud,
A cloak for the anguish that I've kept hidden and proud.

Each raindrop's a tear that I've shed in the night,
Each gust of wind's a whisper of my silent fight.
The umbrella's ribs are bent, its fabric worn thin,
Just like my heart, battered and scarred from within.

I've carried this burden through the cold and the heat,
An emblem of suffering that's felt incomplete.
It shields me from the tempest, but the storm's always there,
A constant companion in this cold, bitter air.

It's a shelter from judgment, a cover from view,
A cloak that disguises the pain I've been through.
But the umbrella's a cage as much as it's a shield,
A reminder of the suffering I've tried to conceal.

The colors are faded, the handle's worn smooth,
A symbol of the journey, the battles I've moved.
Every crease in the fabric, every tear in the seam,
Tells a story of anguish, of shattered dreams.

Sometimes I wonder if I need to let it go,
If I should embrace the rain, let the pain flow.
To dance in the downpour, to feel every drop,
To face the storm head-on, let the suffering stop.

But the umbrella's my crutch, my shield from the pain,
A constant reminder of the losses I've gained.
Yet, I'm learning that healing's not hiding from the storm,
It's letting the rain touch you, to feel every form.

So I'll hold this umbrella close, but I'll try to let in the light,
To face the storms head-on, to challenge the night.
For the pain doesn't vanish with a cover or a guise,
It's faced when you stand strong, when you open your eyes.