Beautiful at best,
Torturous at worst,
Droplets rolling down the car windows,
Watching as they race to that invisible finish line,
What I'd give to be a child once more,
Now those icy drops bring such calming effects,
Listening,
Hearing that is music to my ears,
A pitter patter upon the roof,
So relaxing I could fall asleep in minutes,
But it gets heavier like all things do,
As the clouds darken above head,
That slow paced pitter patter becomes,
A rumbling storm,
That could make glass shatter,
Why should that matter,
Because people are just as unpredictable,
They are beautiful and kind,
As much as they are torturous and deceitful.
YOU ARE READING
Words Not Meant For The Mundane ✔
PoetryIn a world of ordinary there are few whom stick out from the rest, souls on the same frequency, these are words for those souls. ~Trin❤
