Saturday, August 11, 2012

Campfire Rain

More of the air is water, than not,
Until the ceiling comes down,
And what is left unabsorbed,
Will come back up around,

There is no light by which to see the stars,
It has been snuffed out by the clouds,
Like how you throw me into doubt,
Whenever I try to come back around,

Not even my fire that I put under,
An umbrella, in case this rain stops,
Looks like it will last moments more.
Once again, I've given it my best shot.

Though, it's not out yet,
And you haven't said no,
And since the clouds can't cry forever,
I will never let my hopes go.

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