"With a whirl of thought oppressed,
I sunk from reverie to rest."
(Author's note- the quote is from "On the Day of Judgment", Jonathan Swift)
And with that rest, I drive away,
Away from society, away from dismay.
I start up my engine, and I drive it like it's me,
But it's in the rain and I am not.
The rain pours, and pelts, and with it, melts-
My anger, my joy, all music I wanna belt.
It's hard to drive, but easy to enjoy,
Because it's in the rain, and thus so am I.
Some quiet classical plays, and it shakes me to my core,
Reminds me of tranquility in the olden days of yore.
Reminds me of my calm that I only get through this,
This drive in the rain, with its touch but a kiss.
It makes me not want to stop driving.
It makes me want to hold onto the moment that I have- that is so beautiful, so quiet, so real-
But it's in the rain, and I am not.
Once I get out, I too will feel the rain.
YOU ARE READING
Scrambled Poetry- a collage of poems
PoesiThis is a short collection of poems, all written by me. Some are fun, some are meant for someone, some are just bitter- I love all of them though, and hope you do, too! (P.S. it's only considered mature because I do use foul language a lot, i tend t...
