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…
I'm a plant with legs
Walking around looking for rain.
I'm a plant with no fruits,
Roots
Or vines.
I move and I jump around
And the other plants don’t like it.
I move and I jump around
For the freedom I have.
They are jealous,
Yet they've sent me to look for the grey clouds
And bring them home.
I try.
But I don’t find any.
There's just sunshine and happy white clouds.
There's just sunshine
And everything's dying from it;
Too much joy.
We need to be sad.
If not,
It’s better to conduct suicide.
Where are the grey clouds?
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