A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words, A poetry about rain., Pakistan
It's so wet,
it's December.
It's so wet, it's lonely.
I don't feel like reading books anymore.
Now I miss my love.
It's so wet,
it's December.
When the evening falls,
the birds come home.
This heart is sad,
I don't know why it is afraid.
My heart is also only for my courtyard.
How will the goldenness of my heart be fulfilled?
It torments me greatly and it becomes sad.
If it rains Instill associate it with being home in pyjamas reading a good book while drinking hot tea.
The reality is different. Soaking wet, muddy, no reading, the tea rarely tastes good and all I want is to go to bed and wake up in Spring or summer.
It is hard to to feel happy if the heart torments you, the same counts for a way to continue. I guess by surviving the next 5 minutes and after that the next five.
When a person's heart is sad, no matter how beautiful the weather is, it has no effect on the heart and its sadness does not end. The weather outside always looks good only when the heart is happy.