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Dancing In The Rain Puddle
I savor it,
the serene sound of small raindrop
pittering away on my windowpane,
collapsing itself into a pothole,
and forming into a puddle,
oh those puddles,
how I used to savor being in the moment
with hair in pigtails
and feet in red rubbery boots,
carefree of what tommorow would bring,
I've grown out of dancing in puddles,
yet I think,
if I were a little girl today,
could I still dance in those puddles and be carefree?
The world is no longer a safe place,
it has becomed filthy,
of corruption, war, and gore,
anything can happen anyday,
and, we the children, have to be prepared for the worst,
even if it means no longer dancing in the rain puddles,
maybe one day as adults,
there will be no more war and gore,
and we can dance in the rain puddles together again.
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This article has 1 comment.
I wrote this poem on a rainy day and was reminded of one of my favorite memories of childhood and I'm thinking of the world today like things are so different now.