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»My Wounded Spirit«

by Tlholohelo Ramatlhape, November 24, 2016

I see and hear, the dripping of the rain, it is in tandem with the beating of my heart, as I watch its drops fall on the thirsty ground and flow hurriedly, washing away the dryness and cooling the stifling heat in the dry air.
The rain is ironic in its similarity to the tears falling from my eyes, pushed onto the surface from the inside of my angry bitter heart and my wounded spirit.
The dripping of the rain, in time with the beating of my heart accompanied by flowing of my tears, is like a symphony of instruments, composing a piece of music that only my heart can decipher.
I look outside my window, watching the drops fall as some of them cling onto the window pane, the rain continues to fall tirelessly from the sky, seemingly uncontrollable almost like the river of tears running down my face.
I know the rain will stop eventually, and the water on the ground will at some point stop flowing, and my tears will dry up. The question is, whether my broken heart will come back together again and if my wounded spirit will ever trust again.

Written: November 2016
Tags: Disappointment Emotions

The © Copyright to this poem is owned by the author.
Published by writerslounge.net on November 24, 2016 under courtesy of the author.

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