Through The Fall Of Gentle Rain Poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

While you lay in waiting,
To be set free.
To freely breathe...
Without being instructed.
Your liberties have been limited.
As they thrive in your mental twisted fits.

Who but you weeps,
For the loss of abandoned negligence.
Who else but you keeps,
A doing did too well done alive?
Who other than you,
Can not sleep...
Through the fall of gentle rain,
Dropping to nourish all that grows.

You are the only one that knows...
The deepness felt,
Of a guilt quilted that sits.
Providing not a stitch of comfort.

Who but you weeps,
For the loss of abandoned negligence.
Who else but you keeps,
A doing did too well done alive!
Who other than you,
Can not sleep...
Through the fall of gentle rain,
Dropping to nourish all that grows.

While you lay in waiting,
To be set free...
Your haunting arrives,
To find your clinched fists held...
Onto sorrows snuggled close to soothe,
An anguish that has become a part,
Of invited miseries.
That has become identified with you!
And no one dares or cares to share,
Such unrelenting grief!