My Purple Raindrops and Yellow Spears
Like a front from the south,
gloom sweeps over me,
with little heed it blocks the sun,
as purple raindrops fall around me.
as I stand alone, cold and numb,
I struggle to but breathe.
I have no reason to be sad,
I am of the fortunate ones,
life seems to be, but a drug,
now in high, later in down,
my purple drops and yellow spears
no weatherman can predict
Like a spear from the sky
joy strikes me as if lighting
separating my sky of gloom
as my heart fills with warmth
as composure takes hold of me
as I can once again breathe.
poem by Quintin van Deventer
Added by Poetry Lover
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