Tuesday, April 4, 2017


Prompt: The rain.

My very first poem
Was about the rain

The words poured out
Just like the storm 
That had just ended

The poem was sad
Dramatic, depressing and childish

But I still remember 
How the writing itself
Felt like a cleanse

After that first one
The words kept coming

I wrote much more
Not very good and 
Full of teenage angst

That first was like 
Rain watering my mind

I don't romanticize it
But I am thankful
For what it started. 

(Four words a line for April 4. Not the best. But I tried.)

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