4 Nov 2014
My favourite time is when the rain is pouring. Dark skies. Grey clouds swarming. Everything looks healthier. The green of the tree against the cool grey concrete pops with colour. When you look up through the wet green leaved infinity you see another. It's stretched beyond the clouds farther then anyone can see.
The cool grey steel seats beneath the tree are empty. No friends sharing lunch there today. They have all scurried into the shelter of the old boring buildings being obliviously naive to the beautiful dark day.
Rain drops hit exposed skin causing a shiver and your hair gets messy and wet. All the while these ominous grey clouds shelter you. As if to keep out everything that dares trouble your mind. Everyone is around you. Crowds everywhere. Yet I only care and talk to people that have been here for me. Sometimes it's okay to be the way you are. Sad and happy at the same time. It doesn't matter. Under the dark clouds.
YOU ARE READING
The recollection of my misunderstood thoughts.
PoetryLife's a struggle and it's hard. There's nothing you can do. Just get trough it. I hate my life. There's nothing new. But when the sun is out and the sky is void of clouds you can't help but feel a smile is overdue
