a.m

rain and tears

As the rain poured down from the crack of dawn,

it cascaded down her delicate arm,

was she hurt?

did she do any harm?

did the cold, sprinkle on her lower wrist?

seeping into her deep cuts she has left?

the blood does not spill from her marks,

but from her heart that never shown in the dark,

as the misty air hit her face,

it cooled her down to get her back in place,

could you tell she was crying?

in this the rounded world of lying?

or was it the droplets of rain?

making its way down its vain lane

the bursting joy was so unexplainable inside

such an exciting feeling to experience being all tied

tied in knots that were strongly tightened

but once she stepped on the cold hard ground

they loosened as if freedom being granted

just

like

that...