Reprise the Rain

Music: www.youtube.com/watch?v=191xS9…

A short little poem that I wrote a couple months ago, when I was especially uncertain of my future and feeling very...bittersweet. As usual with my shorter poems, this was meant to be much longer, but I never moved past the first stanza; in fact, it was meant to be a response of sorts to one of my most overlooked pieces, "Rainfall", which I wrote almost exactly a year ago. Hehehe~

Other poems you might enjoy:

Rainfall               I.
While the windmill wanes,
The waterwheel turns...
Waterworks, fireworks,
A flame and a wave;
Warmth expands,
Cold contracts;
Constriction, confliction,
Confess a contradiction;
Here in the hour,
I have no time.
And I hate to be
forced in a role,
plugged in a socket,
shoved in a hole,
tied to a rocket
that plunges into space...
But I have no place to be.
               II.
Rainfall on the river;
Is anything less fruitful?
I want to reach out,
I want to step in,
But everyone seems to ignore...
We all ignore what's there.
The tides, they rise,
Overwhelming the shore;
The castle crumbles,
Washed away,
And it's a worthless waste
Of time to try...
But there's worth in the world!
Every moment matters!
They lead to lessons,
So the downpour lessens;
We go up and down,
And all around,
But someday we'll get somewhere,
And then we'll be okay...
No one wants to hear you.
Does that really make me wrong?
                BallerinaTumbling through the sky toward a summit uncertain
My nights are alight with a flourishing flicker
That burns in my bones with an ache I can't hide
Desire that damns me down to ashes unsigned
And it can't be right, but it can't be wrong
So I twirl on the tips of my toes like I'm told
While casting my head back to scream at the cold
Spinning faster and swifter with each star that descends
Defying the wheels of roulette that forget
That I always win out in the end. Dancing on a DoorframeDancing on a doorframe,
Long before the dawn;
Winter's where the water goes,
When the tears go frozen hard.
And the nighttime knows the nocturne,
And the keeper knows the chord;
But most of all, the mockingbird
Can't sing a single word.