It is born inside the misty realms of a cloud
Its mother drops it into the world
The little raindrop, embraces the cool, crisp air and blustry wind
It relishs the feeling of falling and freedom
But then its world of peace is shattered
As it collides with the ground
Its tiny being, shattered into a million pieces,
Then sunk into the ground, as if it never existed

white rose

I would love to here what you think about my poem...o.k.....bye.....

I like the imagery and the cool transfer from elation to utter desperation or something like that. Keep on writing. This is really GooD!


Shroud

This is one mere thought...would give a fine haiku as well.
siren