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 used to wear my father's shirt
That dragged and dragged on the floor.
I used to wear my father's shirt
And claim I’m a big boy.
My sister used to make a moustache with her hair
And act like my father,
Commanding me to bring cold water from the fridge.
We loved to grow up,
Take control of ourselves,
Go to work.
Oh how things have changed!
Now I wish I was that little boy,
And my sister wishes to not be so independent.
The grass is always greener on the other side
Because all one sees on ones shore are dead brown leaves.
We forgot to look under them to see the grass.
Look at us now.
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