Poetry:

Poor in Love

The rain falls
Floats its jagged, random coarse
Illuminated by the street light, it has a faint orange glow
The sound is comforting, the piddle paddle as it hits the ground
Beautiful lights and noise make the angry sky calm and white
I take comfort in there calling, its like your hand against my cheek
   My heart acts the same to both. To seek

Why do I sit here like I do?
Starring out this window, starring at the blank dry sky
Why do I cry? I hide
The blank look of my face is hidden by the tears, it’s not the fears

The rain against the window, glowing searching sad
Its as if the sky is crying with me. For me, at me
My bed becomes more comfortable then it ever has
I relax
So beautiful it is, it feels my soul with hope. Forget
My eyes close, and I sleep more soundly. Even the thunder would not wake me,
   Its arms stretch to reach, hold me close
For a minute you’re near

Poor in love,
Poor in love
I’m alone

By Thomas A. McDonley © 2001