Tears stream down her face
Into the pouring rain,
She wanders around lost in the freezing night
She wonders where all hope has gone
When did the cold harsh wind tear through her heart blowing out her flame
Where everyone went that forsaken her
When they all left her alone in the dark street, physically or mentally
No one left she recognizes
When the beautiful rain that used to cover her tears
Turn into a whipping torrent cutting and bruising her flesh
When the night that used to conceal
Her worries and imperfect self from others piercing gaze
Turn against her, bringing out her worst nightmares
Running frantically, from the suppressing dark, from the frigid rain and others stares
Wishing feverishly, that someone would take her into their embrace and kiss away the tears
Wanting nothing more, for someone to listen to her and accept her
Silver Moon Poetry
Poetry is what gets lost in translation ~Robert Frost~