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Amanda Hawk Aug 2020
Rain filters
through fingers
slipping in between
the cracks
conversations, wet
fluid, bending against skin
pooling at feet
puddles, these topics
we are eager to stomp
dance, splashing
memories catching
on the hems of our clothes
drenching, our sensations
shiver, and we are cold
in these connections
A M Ryder Dec 2019
So another for the writer
Another bottle all by myself
To soak my soul
And drench any dream or hope
Of a happy life
I might have had left
Kalarav Jun 2019
We have the privilege
to romanticise rain.
We talk about the cold breeze,
the soothing sounds
of falling droplets
and the feelings
that are evoked within us.

However, to some others,
rain simply means
a cold sleepless night.
Rain, to them
is like an uninvited guest,
who finds its way through
cracks and holes
and sits uncomfortably close.
A guest who leaves
only when they please.

To some others
rain is like an old friend
who's face they can no longer
They don't even remember
the last time they met
because it did not seem
like an incident
that was important enough
to commit to memory.
If only they had known
that it was the last time
in a long time...

And the ones who farm
to feed us all
pray for rain
that is just enough.
Not too less or too much.
And when it pours,
the elixir flows
to quench the thirst of doubts
'will there be yield?'
'will my children eat?'
A reassuring yes.

So, the next time
rain runs towards you
and drenches you
with an affectionate hug,
embrace it
and let it be no stranger.
swaggmaster Feb 2019
the psalms of the wicked
dare me to thicken
to drench my soul in the quarells below
but i wont quake
i wont shake
for it is not my sanity to take.
K Balachandran Sep 2018
When first-rain drenches the trees,
Mango trees full of blooms whine,
Rains wash down the pain!
Alan S Bailey Oct 2015
Your windbreaker holds back all of the rain that flows
Only seconds away from the curb where you stand,
Puddles distant near and far are the result from the
Violent storm at hand. I'll try to somehow understand.

Your hand stretches outward as if to beckon, but instead
You stick your finger up and let me know how you
"Really feel," but I'm always at your mercy, your dark
Brown eyes hold me in a somewhat helpless-make me reel.

If there was a way to go back to that time and find you there,
What I wouldn't give to tell you how you made me feel.
A lady knows when she's found her love, and there's no way
Without you I'll ever get bye when push comes to shove.
It's been nearly 26 years since we first met, and I still think of her every day. What can a person have ingrained in them that could last that long and somehow still mean nothing?
Styles Jun 2015
No one person
Daylight 4U2C May 2014
I get the crust and the gristle of a thistle once a missile shooting out into the sky and I cry, wonder why. Never sure what I feel for the meal of a deal and then words more like air slip the breeze in my hair, butterflies in the skies killing what kept my alive. Oh too bad, well how sad, if the songs last lines din't matter it'd harm, it'd make the soul so very mad. Here I fall, there I stand like a robot dancing to the tunes. It's demand. Hear I laugh, hear I cry. I hear the screams and feel the burn, so why? Why unsure, of what's telling me my life is so impure. Threatened heart, from the strings that wrap it, tearing it apart. Feel the clench of a bundle of what you yourself have drench and so benched. And you threw to me the horror show, I never so have thought would reckon me to be. I, to be, it's master and it's longing family, here I cry. Hear "I" cry. For I exist in heart, but never, not in mind. There I stand once again as a memory of all that I pretend. If I tried, to be real, the pieces fall apart inside. So I hide, then I quiver and I shake as 'me' is inside. I can touch to the shelter covered in the unbelieving, underachieving to be who I know I am to be. Or at least what you see. I crush the old me and start anew, though I grew. I, immortal to myself have stomped the true. And I become something greater than simple little shrew. Do not lie! For I see with one eye, the look through me. What you see is a host, not the ghost, that lives on. "Awh, look at me. I'm so strong!" Laugh along. Child there. Where? Oops, forgot to care. Now I stare, towards the end that's never ending like this script. Never ending. Twist and bending. Don't kid me, I'm no kid. I'm the body of a youth, but I am dead. I've destroyed myself, if others didn't do a perfect job. Hold up stop! I'm letting go, a bubble that will pop. It will burst, destroying me, if it doesn't **** me first. Here I stand. Hear I cry. There I go. I have died.
I don't know if I posted this before, but I don't think so.

— The End —