Rain falls like teardrops from dreary skies;
While teardrops are tumbling from your eyes,
Coming from the brokeness of a love lost,
It bleeds out these teardrops as part of the cost;
At night they turn to ashes grey & blue;
And in the morning they kiss the moring dew,
You may feel that all this crying is your fate,
But in time you can find love anew & draw upon this slate;
Where you find the right person to dry up all those tears;
And then with luck live happily together for many, many years.
Spiritsong,
March 23/11
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem