My heart is like a cloud.
Drifting, drifting. It would not
stop. Till it gets too heavy.
Then it would
pour and fall.
Splitting
into a million
pieces. Each piece is unique
but similar at the same time.
But after it -splits- it will
take some time to heal,
to form and reform. Starting out
with a lightness of being and then
getting heavier
and heavier.
I wonder then, how many
thunderstorms I can weather.
How many times will I let the thunder
clap, clap, clap.
Mocking my fragile heart.
How much lightning would it take to
zap, zap, zap.
To revive my flat-line heart.
They say that every cloud
has a silver lining. And I wonder
what colour my lining is.
It probably is a shade
of yellowish and grey.
A lonesome cloud
In the pale bare night.
Just floating along.
Till it gets heavy again.
Then it will pour.
Because it never just rains,
it pours.
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