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betterdays Aug 2014
the rain has come
finally
first in thunderous
clould burst
big fat pregnant drops landing
labouriously on
the dessicated dirt
leaving craterous footprints
as evidence of a
glorious dance

more fall to the cloud's internal beat
a steady rhythmic fall
into the mudpit dancehall
that once was dry dusty street

the rain has lessened
now wavering
between drizzle and mist stragglers late,
to raindance fall ball.
I looked into the mirror today...
Found that it had a lot to say..
So I sat myself down in front that girl,
And asked her to explain her complicated world

I ponder the past with emotion like glass
Knowing full well his love wouldn't last
I got caught in the fall and couldnt get up
Half full or half empty it's still half a cup

No one to run to, no one to call
No one who understands, not even at all...
No one to hold, no one to tell,
For so long it was you I called for help..

The stories untold, unfinished and dry
The truth left undefined like shapes in the sky
Deciding each night if it's still worth the fight
I selfishly pray you'd stayed by my side.

Oh this mirror, how it saddens me so,
I would love to rip you out of there and help your mind grow..
Do not loose hope, new friend of mine,
All things get better if you allow them the time..

Reflection I see, be good to me...
You no longer have a solid search team
The empty threats are useless now,
You can ring the alarm but they won't hear it sound

If there is anything I could tell you love,
Be good to yourself and accept strangers hugs
Remember you're strong, and you always will be
Remember you're smart and always worthy

Don't let them break you,
As fragile as you are
Don't let them find out
Or ever see scars
...
Mirror, oh mirror, i see you better it seems...
I wish that you clould now see me...
Trade me spots, for a day or two?
I'd like to see the world from your point of view... "
Just upon a better time
We could set foot to our dreams
We could go to Chicago we could go to Paris
Our fingers could paint
On all white leaves of life
We could turn them Green
We could turn them yellow
We could melodify  
daylines and nightlines
We clould rhythmify this boring world
Just upon an earlier incident
We could touch we could caress
and under the old oak
We could make a good tryst
Alas
Alas
only
upon a better destiny
My poetry could be happier
A.H.

— The End —