I look out the window,
I see it all.
Tiny droplets of water,
Start to fall.
But they're just hazy circles,
Through the glass,
So I open the back door,
And step onto the grass.
I open my mouth,
And it falls on my tongue.
I dance and sing,
Just like when I was young.
And before it can end,
Before it can stop,
I stretch out my cupped hands,
And catch a raindrop.
~!~Ana
YOU ARE READING
A Poem Is Worth A Story
PoetryDo you think something's not real, A legend , a superstition. Did you ever want an answer, A reason, an explanation. Stories could be fake, People could too, But it's not in our hands, To define who's who. Like how a picture is worth a thousand word...
