Is the cool rush hitting you
Washing your face clean
Making your chest cold
And warming the inner layer of your skin
While I’m stuck under this pushed security
A boundary of sunlight
Where hopes are dry and thirsty
And happiness is scorched by disorientation
The place of barren dreams
Or, is it coming
Is the rain flying towards me
Are the clouds glooming over me now
Is the passion I’ve lost falling, finding me
Will I be soaking it up soon
Will I be soaked
September 21, 2009...Micah Winter
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