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You were born to be a rainstorm,
To send your voice throughout the night,
To sing your song with falling raindrops,
To break the darkness with your light,
You were born to show raw beauty,
To wash the dirt out from their eyes,
But the whole world ran for cover,
When you opened up your skies,
So you made your thunder silent,
And learnt to bite your rainy tongue,
You gave them what they thought they wanted,
You gave them life with endless sun,
But as they watched their lives grow weaker,
Watched as their leaves turned brown and dry,
They wished they didn't take for granted,
Your booming presence in the sky,
You were born to be a rainstorm,
To be chaotic and be bold,
To show there's beauty in the knowledge,
That you cannot be controlled,
Because you might think you're not needed,
Life without you is the same,
But nothing beautiful would ever grow,
If it wasn't washed with rain.
(Erin Hanson)
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YOU ARE READING
Alexithymia
Ngẫu nhiênalexithymia (n.) difficulty in experiencing, expressing, and describing emotional responses - A book where I post my pictures I take and music lyrics, poems, and quotes I find online.
