The nature of rain remains the same.
It grows thorns in the marshes, and flowers in the lane,
And offers rainbows of beauty to ease the pain.
As life's pot holes can seem to drive us insane,
Remember your little teardrops looks just like rain.
Drops of laughter, drops of pain.
We are all the same,
Little droplets of precious rain.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem