The rain is loud now, As if a giant feet arises from the clouds To step on the river under the bridge of my heart And disturb it in such a way That the sails of ships bend, And the water touches the bridge from below, Tickling it to sorrow… The rain is loud now, But actually, it has always been like this. You were there once, And I never felt it. But now, All there is Is this sorrow That tickles me from inside, As if it wants me to laugh, Yet doesn’t let me At the same time…
Raven
Sitting on a clothesline
With no clothes.
Because she isn't there
To hang them.
She could do more;
More than
Cleaning,
Cooking,
Washing,
Hanging clothes.
But she didn't.
She was a bottle of coke,
Shaking at the back of a running car.
The cap shot off before anyone
Could drink it.
And the stains;
The stains on the back seat
Are there to stay
For long.
As long
As the car keeps running.
As long,
As the car isn't taken to the junkyard.
The seats being eaten
By rats,
The earth,
The rain.
Raven
Sitting on a clothesline
With no clothes.
Because she isn't there
To hang them.
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