I like by Ann WoodI like to cry when it rains,
then the tears leave no trace.
Quietly flowing, absorbed sadness,
from the loneliness of an empty soul
They merge into a gutter, with raindrops,
they roll together and so suddenly,
cool in the cold,
then silently disappear into the night ..
When it rains, my soul weeps,
naked and barefoot, like a little orphan,
hungry for love
begging in the dark
hoping to be noticed in the darkness.
Rain is a vent,
sighs softly take the load,
then friendly - tears washes,
and somehow the soul feels-
free from burdens, problems, dilemmas
just like new in the old days.
Poetry by Ann Wood
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Written on 2021-04-03 at 23:34
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