Frogs and frost,
Fog and despair,
I feel so lost,
In this tragic affair.
Wind and snow,
The few wild bears,
This poem is pointless,
Or so you can see
That I, a mere light,
Could see all your fears.
Light and rain,
My inspirations,
Are all dead and gone
And this, my poem,
Is a symbol
For something,
Maybe nothing,
Maybe darkness or light,
But after all,
This poem was my song.
YOU ARE READING
Raindrops And Poetry
PoetryThe rain reminds me of a lot of things, and also makes me wonder, do people have the greatness to do enigmatic things and still be praised?
