Rain
-This was inspired by the death of my grandfather. He loved the rain, much like I do, and the day after he died it rained all day. Well anyway, here it is, please let me know what you think.
-This was inspired by the death of my grandfather. He loved the rain, much like I do, and the day after he died it rained all day. Well anyway, here it is, please let me know what you think.
chicory
Well, I can say for certain that this piece ended far more gracefully than it began, the repetition seemed a little forced. But, on another note, all I could imagine was a young someone holding a bunch of white roses. Odd, most of the time when roses are mentioned they are usually thought of as red, maybe even pink. White is hard to put into someone's mind without placing it there on purpose in the poem.
Sympathies for your loss. Poetry, I find, can be the best therapy.
-Chicory