Gray Souls

out_of_the_rain_by_glitterdarkstar[1]

I wrote this poem in 2001 about 2 weeks after my dad died. I can still remember the heaviness I felt that day.

From time to time we see the rain
Not as wet
But as cold, and gray

The sun doesn’t shine
The gray is in our souls
We’re drifting down

Were it to be
Like this forever
Could we go on?

The sound of birds
Outside my window
Reminds me of blue skies

Do the birds see the rain as wet?
Or as cold and gray

Blue skies come again
Where did that feeling go?

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