It pours, it trickles, it falls down,
leaving puddles all over town.
Drops racing across car windows;
soft and gentle the steady wind blows.
It covers up the sun's bright eyes,
and brings dark, melancholy skies
With thick clouds as fluffy as fleece,
Bringing serenity and peace.
The soft rhythm sings me to sleep;
The residue, the leaves shall keep.
YOU ARE READING
The Chaos
PoetryWelcome to the chaos of my mind. A collection of original poems by me. "A poet is, before anything else, a person who is passionately in love with language." -W.H. Auden "That was her gift, she filled you with words you didn't k...
