No one sees my tears when I’m walking in the rain
Thoughts tumble over precipice like a runaway train
Swirling around in stormy emotions no way to restrain
No one sees my tears when I’m walking in the rain
There’s no denying my heart’s a delicate terrain
Free falling cascading flowing o’er and o’er again
No one sees my tears when I’m walking in the rain
Like blood pulsating racing through my vein
Thoughts run amok like tsunami can’t contain
No one sees my tears when I’m walking in the rain
It’s war. It’s children, it’s people massacred. It’s crime. It’s violence—It’s insane
This pain—setting up like storm for a cloudy-dark reign
No one sees my tears when I’m walking in the rain
It’s raining
I’m going walking, for …
No one sees my tears when I’m walking in the rain
2022 ©DeeMin All rights reserved
Afterword: My heart bleeds for the world—our home. The world has never seen 100 million refugees—people displaced from their homes or homelands—14 million of them added in just the past 100 days alone from the war in Ukraine. In the US, 2 mass shootings 1,700 miles and 2 weeks apart but bound by 18. Two men-boys—only 18 years old—chose to massacre innocent people only on the basis that they are black and the other we don’t yet know the motive. In 18 short years how is it that your heart can get so cold, so callous, so filled with hatred? How can you amass such levels of hopelessness, despair, anger that at 18 you’re capable of turning such visceral hate outward to the world? My heart bleeds—for the kind of society have we created where our children murder children—for 18 is but a child in many ways and a critical, delicate transition point in the development process. What are we missing in raising our children? I feel like I’m walking in non-stop rain asking myself: what more can I do? This post is a little emotionally heavy but it’s brought on by the state of our world.
Pheno
Debobed 