PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

The rain comes with the same usual tick ticks on the window

I keep going through the storm to who is waiting

I won’t make it by tonight if I go too slow

For the one I have been after has been waiting

She comes and goes as if were the wind

For I don’t know if she’ll keep waiting

I may not know where to find

For she may not keep waiting

The rain does not alter or slow but rather picks up

I have to hurry because she’s waiting

I bring her a gift, a little pup

She may still be waiting

My car keeps picking up speed, going ever so faster

I hope she is still waiting

The wind blows and I end up in a pasture

For there she is in my sight

Then I realize my finest fright

For she’s been dead for many years

Am I dead? My truest fears.