The rain fell.
Washing the tears from her face.
Washing the memories away.
Her mind poured out like water.
Splattering on the ground.
Lightning lit up her broken face.
And as thunder rumbled through the air,
She lifted her face to the sky
And screamed.
YOU ARE READING
Scratching the Surface (Poems)
PoetryUPDATE: I wrote these when I was 13 and depressed all the time. I'm 18 now, and, fortunately, life's been going well! Unfortunately, these poems are fairly cringe, so read at your own risk. Just some poems that I write when I'm in the poetic mood...
