Rain pouring over me, knowing me closer than anyone on earth, as I reach for your hand.
Touching only cold drops of water, none of them any comfort to me.
As I stand, a stranger, even now, to all who claim to know me.
Averse to being held, wanting only the freedom of independence and free will, taking explanations and tossing them aside as I reside in the pain of life's grasp.
Mountains within my reach never touch my heart as I travel over them, hoping to become one with the rain in my heart.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem