Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Oct 2020
There was a time when we were happy together
The stresses of life were nothing more than the weather
And every smile on our faces brought us pleasure

But there are times in life when the wind becomes fast
And the sunshine turns to rain so the warmth doesn’t last

There is a split in the cloud, where the sun breaks through
That little bit of sunshine is when I see you
Without my sunbeam, what will I do?
Eleanor Sinclair
Written by
Eleanor Sinclair  22/F/The Enterprise
(22/F/The Enterprise)   
Please log in to view and add comments on poems