Photo by Sipan Hamed on Unsplash
In the dim light of the café, I sit alone,
watching rain blur the world outside,
"Rain is just the sky's way of sharing its sorrow."
I wander these wet streets, hopping to find a glimpse of you,
but the rain only deepens the ache of your absence.
About the Creator
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Nice work
Very well written. Keep up the good work!
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Masterful proofreading
Zero grammar & spelling mistakes
A Failed Artist, A Disillusioned Poet, An Underpaid Game Show Host
I took my son and niece to Gori, a small town in Georgia where Joseph Stalin was born. They talked me into visiting the Stalin's Museum, the largest in the post-Soviet space. I had resisted going there because I just can't stand the monster and know enough about him, or so I thought.
By Lana V Lynx8 days ago in FYI
Comments (4)
love your poems
There is a wistfulness to this, Kiara, that I like and you bring a lot of atmosphere in few words.
Brilliantly written
I would say this is top notched.