Tiny droplets swell up then plummet down
From the depression of two cloudy eyes
Toward the stone surface without a sound
Bracing themselves to splatter and then dry.
Each drop falls, capturing nothing but air,
Indifferent, oblivious, thin space,
On impact, splattering everywhere,
Releasing soft cries on that stoic face.
But even though the droplets pour like rain,
It cannot wash away that bitter strife
Or get rid of such seething, inner pain
That these rain drops cannot bring back life.
Tiny droplets that once downwardly soar,
Then ceases to drop, remembered no more.