poetry

When It Rains

A poem about unspoken truths

I’m counting the nights The stars in the galaxies we visited to avoid the fights Never before has a human soul encountered What you so eloquently harbored The depths of your despair deplete my evening air

When it rains I think about the wanderers Those who were left alone without the help of a conjurer Now you see that your wings move with silver strings No one acknowledges them as they pass you by You’re so foolish, you believed that you could fly!

Pain fills this chamber, a distant echo blurs my vision How much longer could I wait, counting on your indecision I’ll leave my body once more this night I’m headed towards somewhere much more bright A place where, when it rains, wanderers are freed from their mundane chains