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Sep 2016
They told me to listen to the raindrops,
And how they beat pitter-patter on the rooftops.
But there is no rooftop on this broken home.
And rain doesn’t “pitter-patter” over it,
It drowns it out.
And now, submerged under water,
I cannot hear anything.
Except the pitter-patter of my heart,
As I’m looking at you.
We’re here, dancing and drowning in the raindrops.
And now, the only pitter-patter we hear is our feet on the floor of this ocean house.
The waves carrying us in any direction in sees fit.
And now, when they tell us to listen to the raindrops,
We won’t be able to hear them.
Because we are now the raindrops.
Pitter-patter.
X*X
Written by
Table For Two
1.2k
   --- and PoetryJournal
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