When It Rains

When it rains, some say God is wheeping

for the lost souls that thrive on this 

dying Earth.

 

When it rains, my window is

scattered with tiny droplets that

race eachother. 

 

 

This poem is about: 
Me

Comments

Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741