Poetry

Thunderstorms

Thunderstorms
Raging in the dark before dawn
Put off the coming of the sun
In the clouds is my real self
I can hide here
Cry camouflaged tears
Inevitably, though, angry skies dissipate
My secrets cannot be seen
I force my soul into submission
Wrangle my visible shell into a sunburst
Aglow with the lie
Until I’ve become something
That to the naked eye
Tainted by blues and yellows
Is right as rain

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