Raindrops drumming on the street,
Hundreds beating on my face,
I walk, ignoring the downpour's beat,
Which seems to gather pace.
A knife remains within my heart,
Its pain and torment still so real,
I hear the rain, but your words depart,
No longer do they make me feel.
The water's roar can't drown the ache,
That grips me deep inside,
Moments ago, my heart did quake,
But now, the rain has washed away that tide.
I walked with you, I was myself,
And felt the joy of life,
But now the rain has taken wealth,
And left me with only strife.
Knife, heart
© Copyright: Антон Печкуров, 2023
Свидетельство о публикации №123032106137
Свидетельство о публикации №123032106137
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