Rain trembles
upon my skin,
Playing a solo
on my cheekbones
and a chorus on my
skybound palms,
Suddenly,
and without hesitation,
I've been
transformed
into an instrument
for heaven's gray
melancholy song,
as the clouds
break
into a crescendo
of falling
tears.
YOU ARE READING
Poetry
PoesíaJust some poetry I wanted to put down because of my feelings and stuff. Hope you like it.
