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cry down the rain



sleep must be something that’s
awarded only to the dead

you contemplate things like that
when it’s late & you’re alone again
on another endless night

staring out the window at the
sorrowful rain that makes it seem
like everything out there is crying

that’s when they get up & dance again
those memories buzzing in your head
like piano melodies haunting the cracked
leatherette stools of a long-lamented
boarded up roadhouse

heartbreak that’s gone mellow over
the solitary years but still lingers
these faded blues

so you gather up the dismal
pieces of your soul
that still remain

and you pray your silent prayers
to the broken hearted angels
that cry down the rain



Written by JohnFeddeler
Published
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