Reflections
On my window pane
were four drops of rain
resembling a quatrain
On love, on loss and gain
Mirrors were they to my brain,
the four pensive drops of rain,
A reflection of memory chains
trickling icy, stray, and drained.
Me and the dewy window pane
Laughed and cried with no restraint,
going gracefully insane,
lost in poetry and pain.
Copyright © Zainab Wasel Ali | Year Posted 2024
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