It is hot outside, and almost nightfall,
People who she ‘thought’ were her friends
Circle her with their fun and games.
She sits on a boulder righting a story in her notebook,
A story of fulfillment, and wishes,
While she waits for someone to call her name to play.
She hears no sound, fears no voice.
It starts to sprinkle, rain, and then downpour.
The people don’t care; it’s all fun to them,
The laughter gets louder with each and every pound of a rain drop,
The rain is soaking her clothes, and trickling down her body.
No one notices her tears because they are mixed with the rain.
She sits and stares at her paper with the little sunlight that is left,
As the rain washes away her ink filled words,
Her paper becomes a vast blotch of pure
I was inspired by a good friend of mine to put this up. I actually had this one for a while like 2 or 3 months. so this is my first one I put up any where, don't count on more comming, I'm not the best at poetry, and I dont do a lot of it, it's just not my style. But please be honest on what you think! Thanks