The Beautiful Existentialist

October 16, 2009
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I walk outside

Rain falls lightly to the ground
It sprinkles over my self
I move slowly, down the stairs
Careful not to wake anyone
My life was uninteresting until now,
I slip away, towards the stars.
Rain pitter-patters onto the stone,
Carefully I pass each room by.
Girls and boys laughing, playing
The boy plays a piano upstairs.
He does not brag about it,
For no one is listening
No one is watching him
So he plays with an unreserved confidence and passion.
Drip drop, da-da-dee-da
The sky is bluer
The stars are brighter
And clouds are closer
Tonight, the rain is dancing
I breathe in the summer air
And dance with the rain.
Lost, always – but here
My self needs no explanation
And happiness need not be justified.
I continue to pass by each step
Olives, I get tea.
He is so nice; I have a cookie, too.
Rain glides down the windowsill as I
Look outside
I could gaze at the Ruskin forever,
But, really, I must go on.
I glide with the rain
I glisten
And walk off through Church
The grass is greener
And it is quite a sight
To watch rain fall onto
The river at night.
Tread through the grass, swishing
Alongside the gondolas and the water.
And there it is – what a sight
In a quick embrace, I delight.
I gaze up at the moon,
It won’t be full forever.
Softly as the rain falls,
Faint as his piano plays,
I hear it,
Breathe the summer air,
Listen, it said,

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