Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Feb 2021
Wind
It's soft but mysterious like everyone I know.
It's the sound of storms coming to an end or just beginning.
It's the warning of leave now or waits until hell comes.
I love storms. I think it all started when I was watching it with my older sister.
We would sit on the couches and look at the windows for almost an hour.
That was all before I knew how bad storms could get.
The fighting/ the yelling. The wishing to be in another place type of storm.
When I finally hear the soft sounds, I know it's finally over.
I leave my room and look out to see what the storm has destroyed.
Usually, it's only a few tears are gone,
On bad days the whole town is scared of living there homes.
Not wanting to pick up the pieces.
I wonder when I stop loving looking out the window.
I wonder why storms started to get so bad.
I remember this one night I was still a kid, and the biggest storm I ever saw happen.
All the things I loved got washed away, and then I knew it was time to grow up.
I kept waiting and waiting for the sound of the wind to come by.
But it ever came. All I could hear was the raindrops hitting every crack in the house.
The lighting was getting bigger than cars at this point.
I hid in my room and just waited for the sun to shine again.
It felt like days passed when I Could see the flowers blowing in the wind.
I still think back to this day and wonder why it took so long to pass.
No one remembers these days, so was it all to make them believe?
Was my mind trying to hide me from reality?
Maybe something happened that was worse than the storm in my head.
I look around and hope that the sky stays clear.
Once in a while, when I visit my old town, I can still hear the wind blowing.
Either tell me happiness is coming or run far away and don't look back.
Written by
Blake  23/FTM
(23/FTM)   
62
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems