Puddles - 10/2/02 Poem by Tery Young

This rain keeps falling, falling on my face.
With the troubles inside me, my footsteps I shall pace.

And the gentle sound of silence echos through my ears.
With a steady wind at my back I fly through the years.

Why should I keep going, the rain will never tell.
Puddles of fallen memories, its emptiness my hell.

And driven by its emptiness, my heart that water fills.
The always wondering of who you are, the over flowing as it spills.

And puddles make for great rainy days, but you dont know what they are.
The sadness ans emptiness that I am, to always have that scar.

And the rain keeps on falling, falling on my face.
Remembering the emptiness of my puddle, knowing its my place.