Random (I)

Another time

ten words heal,
seven harm done.
There’s a phrase for gone days.
a lot of things are of pain
and I cannot write about them.
rhetorical choruses of love
damp cloud in a stroke of colors.
a canvassing road
a muddy song.
in another life
I will find the happiness
I will find the sadness
I will dare the rain
and call its name by my pain
time and time again.

Ruddapoet