Feeling The Rain

A poem of deep sadness and loss of innocence.

I can't feel the rain.

It pounds,

against the metal roof,

against,

my outstretched limbs,

but not,

until I've been broken,

badly.

I hear it pitter-patter,

inside of,

my badly broken heart.

A facade,

I cannot imagine without,

crying.

Rivers are raining on me.

Tears,

I have saved for the worst,

pour,

from a tear in my fabric lining.

Epiphany.

I am but a memory forgotten,

blended,

with the paint of blue tragedy.

Dark.

I am a child's pavement hopscotch,

chalk,

being washed away by what I,

cannot,

feel on my limbs but in my heart;

the rain.

Author's Note

The color of tragedy is blue, but the color of numbness is grey like the rain.

Reviews

[Iam-me]

Being a child and not being happy and feeling numb and lose is wicked and bad, to say the least. Due to whatever reasons has made said child feel that way. Ie Mental, physical, sexual abuse whatever. The poor child is broken and instead of being nurtured and loved it is taunted and used and abused. So shuts down and closes off inside to the world and its self. Like a protective shield is put up to stop more suffering come into to hurt them more. The spirit has been broken and so has the soul out with the mind and heart and body.

[Haley]

This is so beautiful. You wouldn't think that being numb would have a feeling, you know, since numbness is typically described by the absence of feeling. But that's not the case. You illustrated this feeling perfectly in my opinion. Great job.

[Eris Marriott]

Absolutely stunning. I loved this so much. Excellent work! I don't have any critiques to offer besides telling you that I adored this.