deepundergroundpoetry.com
The Rain
The day my Mother decided to stop breathing
it was raining...heavy torrents of jet-stream
water over and under her...
till she was carried away.
She called my grandmother and said
it sounded like angry fist
beating on her window pane
Beating
Beating
Beating
driving her more insane.
Until the beating
drowned her voice out
and all we could hear was the rain
But for me...
the rain is my saving grace
I mean ..
I love the way it feels
when its on my face
cleansing me ...clearing me
Until I become a blank page
draining me of all my pain
and rage
I feel each drop sink into me
endlessly .. seeping deep
So I can let go
with no more
secrets to keep ...
because secrets are sometimes
what steals your sanity
Not right away..
just gradualy
thats why my soul is resilient
and free ....
so rain please fall
so I can see ...myself
again ....more clearly.
it was raining...heavy torrents of jet-stream
water over and under her...
till she was carried away.
She called my grandmother and said
it sounded like angry fist
beating on her window pane
Beating
Beating
Beating
driving her more insane.
Until the beating
drowned her voice out
and all we could hear was the rain
But for me...
the rain is my saving grace
I mean ..
I love the way it feels
when its on my face
cleansing me ...clearing me
Until I become a blank page
draining me of all my pain
and rage
I feel each drop sink into me
endlessly .. seeping deep
So I can let go
with no more
secrets to keep ...
because secrets are sometimes
what steals your sanity
Not right away..
just gradualy
thats why my soul is resilient
and free ....
so rain please fall
so I can see ...myself
again ....more clearly.
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