our pain, once unbareable
becomes a murmer of thoughts
stored away in the locker of our minds
waiting to be unleashed.
But the lock is weak
and easily broken
then all the pain & love
comes rushing out like an ocean
sweeping you under with its strong current.
And while most could not breath
few of us can
By refusing to lose our calm
we can swim to the surface.
once free, i can feel the rain.
formed from the vapors of hate.
But this is not my rain.
This is rain from the ocean of parodise
now tainted by those it seeks
and refusing the attention
of those who only want her to be happy
and to treat her like the tropical sunrise
she deserves to be
not the desheveld wasteland
she sets herself up to be.