When you look through the pummeling rain,
you see her standing there.
Her polka-dot red dress soaking wet,
as is her hair.
But when you reach out for her,
she disappears.
Nothing scares more,
than what you fear.
The fear of losing everything,
losing her.
Like having the world there,
in the palm of your hand,
only to drop it in the sewer.
And the grate is just to thin for you to reach in.
May 5, 2014
May 5, 2014 at 10:36 AM UTC
When you look through the pummeling rain,
you see her standing there.
Her polka-dot red dress soaking wet,
as is her hair.
But when you reach out for her,
she disappears.
Nothing scares more,
than what you fear.
The fear of losing everything,
losing her.
Like having the world there,
in the palm of your hand,
only to drop it in the sewer.
And the grate is just to thin for you to reach in.
Copyright Barry Pietrantonio
Request permission to use this poem