Pouring the rain over the lane
Walking the same path to the train
Of my deep thoughts which all may drive
Blue of the days into the rise.
Keeping the game staying alive.
Smiling with force, letting behind.
Falling the drop over the hope
Washing instead what fears did
Over the skies catching in flies
Doubts wings to rid, yet may forbid
Blinding past eyes shaping the cries.
Yearning my hope, breaking the rope.
My thoughts in dance sparking their glance,
Pouring the rain washing my lane.
I am a Romanian healthcare professional and an amateur writer of prose and poetry. For about 4 years, English has become my secondary language, as I moved to the UK. Yet one of the biggest challenges is writing poetry in English.