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False rain

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  • False rain

    I’m sorry for making you sad
    So sorry for making you mad
    Regret now assails me
    Your scorched looks impale me
    I long for the things that we had

    Pitter-patter, doesn’t matter
    What we say, or do, or think
    Never ever come together
    Never heal the interlink

    I’m sorry for making you wild
    Behaving just like a spoiled child
    In a tantrum filled spree
    We regaled you and me
    On the censure and scorn we compiled

    Pitter-patter doesn’t matter
    How we try to work it out
    Never bending, ache unending
    Overflow with double doubt

    I don’t know what came over me
    Don’t know why we couldn’t agree
    I’m penitent true
    For making you blue
    Let’s open an aging Chablis

    Many words so loosely spoken
    Uttered forth in haste or pain
    Hear the ardent promise broken
    False hope of rain

  • #2
    Thoroughly enjoy the creative flow of this piece - not only the stanza format switch (long been a limerick lover), but the repetition in S2 & S4, and sense of hope against futility running complete from start to finish. It seems personal, but holds echoes of the national narrative in the US. Nice work.

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