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Shower
March 12, 2016
Rain falls from this flower of steel
Massaging my thoughts of you as I soak
Tears undistinguished from the real
As without a fire there rises smoke
This same shower had once washed me
Cleaned away the grime of my frustration
But no bath may make me agree
To the tainted filth of your persuasion
What a rain to disguise my cries!
My sobs lost in the waterfall’s humming
Thank the roar of piping which tries
To drown me when my you are fast coming
© Gabriela W., Acton, MA
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