Surviving | In The Life Of An Author

Storm | Poem

It drips,
letting a liquid touch the roof tops
And streets
Its called rain.

I glance out side
As the view before me
Is covered in a layer of rain drops.

Beautiful the word slips out,
I'm hiding
Only one person knows where I hide,
I'll be safe here,
I don't want to leave.

I close the door
Blocking all light out
As the rain drops some how
Find there way in with me,
Those are tears.

I love when it rains
And when there's thunder,
Because you can't tell if my face is wet
From rain or tears
And oh how I love the thunder
Because it covers up the evidence of my sobs.

I love the rain
Because even when
The heavens are crying its beautiful
And strong still,
I wish I was like a storm.  

Don't mistake my tears for pain
Of the bad things,
No take my tears for the happiness
From the good things.

I'm not strong or brave
Or pretty or even a happy go lucky person,
No I'm just hopeful,
I'm big hearted,
And I am me.

But oh how I wish the be a storm,
Or even just rain
Because at least I believe its beautiful.