No one likes the rain.
The wet cloths and slick hair.
But it hides my pain.
The scars... so unfair.
The drops like tears.
The night so hushing.
I will never have fears.
On the ground rushing.
Clam but stead fast.
The rain a reminder.
Always saying, "Forget the past..."
Many hate the dark.
But I like the rain.
"We can't play in the park."
But I like how it hides my pain.
I like the rain.
With love,
Alexandra Claire.
YOU ARE READING
Ethereal Illusions // Poetry Book
PoetryHighest Rank: #41 (March 6, 2017) Ethereal, It means delicate and light in a way that seems too perfect for this world. Illusions, It means wrongly perceived or interpreted by the senses. • I am just trying to find a place in the world, but...
