With the grey clouds come wind of a deafening force. <br />The source of my sorrow, the black pedals of course <br />and I know the rain is coming, I've seen little yet but breeze. <br />To see what the rain maker sees beyond the green of trees <br />will always be a mistery to the wondering part of me. <br /> <br />When the thunder crashes and lightning clashes in the sky <br />I will hold a picture of you and I and wonder with every part of me. <br />Is the world ending, I'm pretending to not notice. <br />I'm hoping that someone can come and sew this back together, <br />end this terrible weather and bring back my sunny days.<br /><br />Moth Harris<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/black-rose-pedals-blowing-through-the-air/
