Rain pours hard,
A million empty drops,
The memories in seeds,
Which bloom to crops.
Sprouting so small,
Those tiny shards grow,
Moments leaving in fall,
When your thoughts flow.
Our minds set us apart,
In this world of madness,
Remember only your heart,
Can grow seeds of sadness.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem