C.C.:

Oldie In the rain • I walk. The striking wet drips here. • Thoughts that swirl as dawn appears. • Drum up my cry. • The images move by. • Glued • into parts to remember. • Flaked and crude. • The drab dark wetness hangs around. • All the grey and gloomy sound. • The whispers of the rain • merge in... Sign in to see full entry.