(no subject)
The Storm
Sitting a l o n e
cold
Watching the storm
congeal
Raindrops gather
on the
window
and still I sit
My mind is away
r u n n i n g
. . .
r
u
n
n
i
n
g
away.
With each flash
the thunder comes on stonger
As does my h.e.a.r.t
beat
When I think of you