April
Ohey internet people. I've missed you.
I can smell April on his drenched sweater
The aroma of rain and now blooming spring
A shallow consolation it seems was my vow
As this is coming to be a regular thing.
If the downpour can’t cleanse the hands of doubt
I’ll make the call if you can’t quite decide for yourself
For it’s clearly not spring and I’m clearly not forgiving
A foolish misjudgment of season and self.
We stand under rainy shards of things once promised
Whether love unreflected or wrongly defined
It’s hard to believe it’s the season of life
When the scent you wear under the rain is not mine.
Wrote this a while back. Someone gave me the first two lines and I ran with it. I feel like it needs another stanza though, kinda leaves you hanging. Eh, I'll get to it when I get to it.
I can smell April on his drenched sweater
The aroma of rain and now blooming spring
A shallow consolation it seems was my vow
As this is coming to be a regular thing.
If the downpour can’t cleanse the hands of doubt
I’ll make the call if you can’t quite decide for yourself
For it’s clearly not spring and I’m clearly not forgiving
A foolish misjudgment of season and self.
We stand under rainy shards of things once promised
Whether love unreflected or wrongly defined
It’s hard to believe it’s the season of life
When the scent you wear under the rain is not mine.
Wrote this a while back. Someone gave me the first two lines and I ran with it. I feel like it needs another stanza though, kinda leaves you hanging. Eh, I'll get to it when I get to it.