To happen and between
happened there was, a time to introspect,
hatching a cryptic ache.
Sitting on the rainbow in
morning, the importance of justice was
evident. But black clovers snatched.
I will repeat. The arc
was very long. Who hangs to commit
suicide in the showers of blessings?
I love your poems in this
I love your poems in this style. The last stanza of this poem compares bleak irony to hope's iridescent and effulgent showers.
J-Called