Sunday Rain

Like Sunday
Like Rain
The poison
he ingested
were the tears
he was crying
But his tears
were Sunday church
They were his pain before all who knew
The poison now
running down
his cheeks
There wasn’t a cure
The crying was not only rain
But the thunder
As he was uncontrollably crying
Like Sunday was the day
his rain
was the
tears of his poison mind

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *