The Pitter-Patter of Drops
The pitter-patter of drops drum
out the beat of a broken heart.
As tears supply the rain and glum,
the pitter-patter of drops drum.
And we fear, there is more to come,
awaiting the sunshine to start.
The pitter-patter of drops drum
out the beat of a broken heart.
Awaiting the sunshine to start,
laughter can no longer be heard.
We sense the mood grey clouds impart,
awaiting the sunshine to start.
And as our smiles slowly depart,
we share the gloom without a word.
Awaiting the sunshine to start,
laughter can no longer be heard.
We share the gloom without a word,
watching the trees sway in the breeze.
As tears ensure our views are blurred,
we share the gloom without a word.
And the softest sound ever heard;
morphs into silence, of unease.
We share the gloom without a word,
watching the trees sway in the breeze.
Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2015
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