Wednesday, June 2, 2010

The Eighth Drop of "Tears"

Love

Love supplies a mysterious power,
into your hands.
When you write about rain,
it rains.
And when you write about tears,
you cry.




It is raining. Rain is good. I feel tears in my eyes. Tears also are good. I write and the raindrops sweep away words from my paper leaving it blank, wet. And there is no one to hold an umbrella for me. Therefore, there won't be a new drop of tear anymore.

Though it won't end, let me stop now.
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