Whenever I can't cry, the rain will cry for me.
It pours out the emptiness that I keep locked up inside of my soul.
_________________________
When I can't release my anger, the rain will get angry for me.
It pounds the ground as if it were a drum.
_________________________
Why does the sun find joy out of hiding away from those that need it?
☀ 🌤 ⛅️ 🌥 ☁️ 🌧 ⛈ 🌩 ☀️
VOCÊ ESTÁ LENDO
Dear Suicide...
Poesia(#12 in Poetry- 3/5/17 |14 in Poetry- 2/28/17 |23 in Poetry- 11/18/16) Have you ever considered picking up a pen and writing to the one you fear most? Well, that's what I've done. When I write to my fears, It's oddly satisfying, because I know that...
