The Strom

May 5, 2009
The Storm
A storm brews.
The clouds look dark and harmful.
I can tell that it will rain soon.
I want to stay inside today.
But he urges me to take a walk.
I step outside, and the thunder crashes down.
It scares me, and I run for the door.
But he closes the door and won’t let me in.
He locks the door and walks away.
I beg him to let me in again, but he keeps walking away.
The hurt sets in,
and the rain that feels like acid to my heart begins to fall upon me.

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