It wasn’t just any ordinary rainy day with the cliché gray clouds hovering over the sun and the vigorous-swift windshields of cars swiping the wet streams away. The weather was different that day. Like I said, it wasn’t just some raindrops layering the grass and pavement. It was the type of episode that made your feet dangle off your bed in the morning that day and sway along to the rhythm of the drops upon the open windowsills.
You would wake up to the sounds of the raindrops nurturing the greens, with the wet earth smell that brings tranquility and nostalgia to your senses. The wind rustling the bushy spring trees make your ears yearn for more melody. Your bare feet touching the shaggy wet green grass and tickling your damped toes.
Her with the Bambi eyes,
Tears streamed down her face.
Memories of the one that got away, encased within her soul embrace.
Flushed cheeks, swallowed the lies behind their goodbyes.
Isolated herself down in the wilderness,
Pondered her innocence against her stuffed nose; among the branches, the mockingbird stared.
Demonstrated its dolour’s in soft tunes upon the air, as the wind tickled her ears beneath her wild curly hair.
Yet her sorrowed heart; pulsated her mind, upon the fellow’s carelessness.
“Thou shalt not cry, for the beacon of light thou possess contrasts with the grim aura he bestowed upon thee,” the mockingbird said.
“I do not cry; yet my infatuation has allowed my faith to yonder down.”
Brittle nails, torn lilac dress, dropped the keys to her humanity below the rustling leaves.
“I do not know what to say; for my heart aches ‘it’s dead!’!”
“Allow thy-self for thyself; for a man, as a coward, as he shall fade away in the harsh night’s breeze, away with thy sorrows, calming thine ease.”
The crinkles by her eyes, cornered lips upright, with her glassy eyes; the fluttered wings of the figmented bird sauntered away into the trees from the dire girl’s town.