Pane. A poem.

I watch the rain on my window
Every drop running a chaotic race
To get to the bottom of my pane (pain)
Never the same path twice
As if utilising eidetic memory
Every drop a consequence
Every drop a choice (never) made
That flows to the bottom of my pane (pain)
Where it merges with the rest
Attaining its watery goal
To be accepted again

8 thoughts on “Pane. A poem.

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      1. You know, I began blogging about three weeks ago. I have, up to this point, experienced numerous times of great depression and isolation. I have found- so far- on here that there are people who genuinely care about others and that alone makes me smile. I hope to make lasting friendships through this journey.

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