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Literature Text
The dense fog, masks the sight through crystaline
windows. Pitter, patter.
No blue, no yellow in the sky, only
gray. Rumble, rumble.
So humid, yet so cold, it all
must be. Hiss...
Stray leaves walk the streets by their
lonesome. Crash.
White streaks blast through the heavy droplets,
a single chorus following its lead.
The island of this chair stands dry, allowing me to
think.
windows. Pitter, patter.
No blue, no yellow in the sky, only
gray. Rumble, rumble.
So humid, yet so cold, it all
must be. Hiss...
Stray leaves walk the streets by their
lonesome. Crash.
White streaks blast through the heavy droplets,
a single chorus following its lead.
The island of this chair stands dry, allowing me to
think.
Once more, I am writing poetry. 
This is the second assignment I am supposed to do for the creative writing class I have, for a tribute poem, that is also a visual poem rich in images. I hope I don't get failed for the fact that I'm paying tribute to rainy days, and how I am weird and really enjoy them at times, especially when I have time to think on such days.
(also, I once again have no clue if I'm submitting this in the correct area, but I think I am, and that's all that matters to me)
Ummm, yeah. I don't really have much else to say, other than I hope you all enjoy.
This is the second assignment I am supposed to do for the creative writing class I have, for a tribute poem, that is also a visual poem rich in images. I hope I don't get failed for the fact that I'm paying tribute to rainy days, and how I am weird and really enjoy them at times, especially when I have time to think on such days.(also, I once again have no clue if I'm submitting this in the correct area, but I think I am, and that's all that matters to me)
Ummm, yeah. I don't really have much else to say, other than I hope you all enjoy.
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Comments2
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Seems good to me, and quite honestly, I love rainy days, myself.