Fighting For It

This is just gonna be where I post all of the poems that I write on here. I also put them on my dA (Cenitopius.Deviantart.Com) and my Facebook for those of you who already have it. This series would probably have been called 'A Little Bit of Poetry' if it weren't for the fat that Fighting For It (101) was so descriptive of the whole series in it's name that I had to use it here as well.

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25. Rhythm on my Window

Maybe there is no rain but hail,
And each stone's an arrow
Shot from an ocean of bows to strike you,
And with their collective strikes they might cause you to freeze.

But maybe there is no memory but rain,
Since that which fell billions of years ago
And that that which fell today;
They're exactly the same.


So maybe every memory's tainted,
And maybe every's true,
But I suppose they repose
For about them without them
There'd never be chance for you.

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