Rain falls like pain splattered teardrops,
on what resembles a half broken heart,
worn on a sleeve for far too long,
but is only frosted pavement,
iced over by the harshness of winter,

Soon to be covered by one too many snowfalls,
erasing the memory of what was once rains canvas
to create art of actual feeling,
without hidden complexities,

Making the once crystal clear image,
to become clouded with confusing imagery,
of things even the most intellegent minds,
cannot grasp,

Which is why I find the world these days,
to be nothing less than perplexing,
the simplicity of everything is gone,
it's no longer cool to be original,
everything now has to be in riddles,

A tragic story you'd rather not let unfold,
a character you wouldn't take the time to name,
and a scene made for heartbreak,
and desperation.