honey, it is the atmosphere
stretching hands
pointing out
blaming skies
yearning for the sunlight
without any ability
to radiate with own might
when it's asked for the rain,
it shudders; for blue hue,
its yellow beams remain
unfathomable during typhoon
because here at the center of storm
there is no swarming heavy rain's tune
the piece of ice flake don't seem to fit
the moment it dropped on the puzzle
just give it some time to melt in it
each ounce of it can surmise your yelp
the fog will block your horizon
until you finally uttered help.
Copyright © Carlo Angelo Buan | Year Posted 2025
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment