Falling apart at the seams, <br />Trying to mend broken dreams. <br />I tell myself someday, somehow, <br />It will be better, better than now. <br /> <br />But now I seem to find, <br />That slowly, slowly, I'm loosing my mind. <br />I'm holding on to little things, <br />Like the songs that Miss Rain sings. <br /> <br />But that's not enough to get by on, <br />It's not as good as a shoulder to cry on. <br />I'm holding on to things that come soon, <br />At the end of day, waiting for the moon. <br /> <br />Or simply a chance to get out of the house, <br />Anything at all, like the rain that will douse <br />Me in her sweet smell and song, <br />Hoping she asks me to come along. <br /> <br />But though I stay, all while she's here, <br />She leaves me alone, with nobody near. <br />I'm not invited to come with her, <br />I won't see the adventures she will stir. <br /> <br />I hear of them in the thunderous crash, <br />And see them on her face, with lightning's flash. <br />But never, no never can I come along, <br />I can only listen to her joyful song, <br /> <br />Then she whispers, Please hold on, <br />Just for the time that I'm gone, <br />For I wish I might see you again, <br />I ask once more for an answer to when? <br /> <br />But no answer whispers back. <br />And I'm left in the cold dark black. <br />She's gone once more, <br />To seek a far shore. <br />One that I might never see, <br />For she may ne'er bring along me.<br /><br />Megan Frame<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/miss-rain/
