A Poet's Dying Breath
Tuesday, February 28, 2012
Rain Storms
Pitter-patter,
On the roof,
Trickling down
Into my heart.
Water, water
Everywhere
But not a drop
To drink.
And do I care?
No,
But if there should be
A day where you and I
Dance in the downpour,
I think I shall find
A time when I care even less.
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