Sometimes there is a drought in my soul
And the rain won't fall day or night...

You see her walking down the street
With her hair swaying all nice and neat...

When I found out she died I couldn't cry
I didn't see her before, no chance to say goodbye...

Fibro; tissue
Myalgia; pain in the muscles...

Dead to me
What do these words mean...

Who am I but an individual being?
I am small and young, yet I am seeing...

Take a deep breath and soar
Way up high over beautiful shore...

Sad rain is poetically silent yet also loud
It whispers on the surface but inside it screams...

Today is a holiday and that is all
Today is no more and no less...

My history is extensively famous
Known by those who are near and far...

Some spend years wallowing in emotion
Scared, they are depressed with devotion...

Sneaking thoughts crawled unseen within me
Waiting for the moment when they would be set free...