The rain comes down in steady thudding.
A lone sunbeam pierces through the thick gray clouds.
The woman sits, by herself,
in a house that stands by itself,
far from any other.
Yellow paint peeling.
Corn fields, all around.
They’ve been abandoned.
Her tears fall with the rain.
At times coming down as fast.
Weeping and sobbing.
Sorrow laid bare before god alone.
Her dress is blue.
Mascara runs down her face.
Brown hairs block watery eyes.
She’ll weep for several hours.
Then she will sleep.
Then she will weep for several more.
Her sadness fills the walls of this place.
It has a presence, the loneliness.
As though the air is thick with it.
The house is unkempt.
The chores abandoned for weeping.
Days turn to weeks.
Weeks turn to months.
The pain endures.
This is her end.
Alone, in this place.
With only memories,
and sorrows.
Poetry
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I want to cry… What a poignant piece of work! I love the short sentences to bring out the hopeless nature of the scene!