Читать книгу From Anxiety To Poetry - - Страница 30

Summer’s here

The forecast lied

For when I go out

It’s raining outside.

Summer’s here

The radio said

But when I go out

It rains on my head.

Summer’s here

The songbirds sing

And so I go out

But it’s still raining.

Summer’s here

But the rain’s incessant

So I’ll write poetry

For my antidepressant.