rain…

rain has come…
nothing is pure…

not streets…
nor churches…
paths we once walked-down…
practiced art of skipping stones…

rain has a beat…
rhythm
yet no-one dances…
the jitterbug has died…

rain has come…
nothing is pure…

staying inside…
fear of getting wet…
cold…
yet…this house will not protect you…

we’ll always be scared…
no chances taken…
nice and tidy and dry…
from what…what…

rain has come…
nothing is pure…

Published by: dmseay

The writing is based on my surroundings and what I've been surrounded by. This language is coarse and politically incorrect; which I make no apologies for. These characters are not nice and to use any other dialogue would be disingenuine. That being said, I choose to roll the dice. dm seay

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