The Rain Is Falling
The rain is falling through the leaves.
I open my window to hear the drops.
They say to me that love comes
with a broken heart;
that it comes with a heavy price
and is full of deceit.
But the rain is pure
as it falls through the leaves.
She comes again.
I see her standing in the rain.
She holds her bleeding heart out
in her hands to me with a selfless look
I have seen before.
Less and less she has come through the years,
but still she comes
thinking I will be deceived.
I who have lived so long.
But this time I will take her heart,
bleeding, from the palms of her hands,
and I will bury it in the ground,
in a plain, wooden box - not of gold or silver,
for if someone should dig it up,
I would not want him rejoicing,
thinking that there was something inside
of even greater worth,
instead of worms.
Comments about this poem (The Rain Is Falling by kendall thomas )
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