Raining, they say
What a beautiful weather it is
As beautiful as myself
But nonetheless, some hates it.
Raining, I say
there were never raindrops that I can see.
Tear drops were my friends,
In times of loneliness and singularity.
Raining, she says
When she saw what a sad weather it is
And a sad person I am
When the day she left, I am now all alone.
YOU ARE READING
Late Night Poems
Poetrya compilation of poems and thoughts that I made at night while i suffer with fear and delusions with everything that surrounds me. Love is a very fearful thing i suppose and yeah, it feels good to love.
