The Wind from a storm tells me lonely and sad stories from around the world
Slowly with grace it passes my place
As sprinkles of rain begin to trickle upon my face
drops so tiny they dissapear soon without a trace,
The rain starts to fall like tears from a sad face
Like from someone scared, alone and out of place,
Clouds grow darker like a mind of the depressed
They were closed as if there were things they didn't want to be confessed,
Suddenly from above came a strike of light
Thundering hitting a tree with all its might,
Yurning for attention out of spite
It left a tree burning all through the night.
© Copyright 2016 TerryM. All rights reserved.