The pitter-patter of raindrops
While the city
Shivers from a cold-snap.
A woman sits, with book in hand,
Fingering wet pages in the rain.
She’s flying high in dreamland,
Working double-shifts in her brain.
On a cold, dark, and empty night,
Under the smoldering of a streetlight,
Lost upon a green park bench,
Swimming only in her heart-wrench.
She hopes to pass this lonely age,
With a flipping of the pages.
Maybe, fiction’s better than reality?
Inside the book, her woes are more carefree.
Even the rain can’t stop her spending
Her free time looking for that happy ending.
My name is Mathew, and I started Blog of the Wolf Boy as an exercise in writing before I go to University this year to begin a Bachelors of English. I write mostly creative works, life lessons and mental health issues.
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