Rain Pours Down
Poem By Steve Armstrong
The phone call ends, and I step out of the phone box.
It's dark outside, and the cold, hard rain,
beats down on me from above.
Like arrows piercing armour,
so, the rain pierces my soul.
Penetrating, deep, to the bone.
I run for cover, trying to escape,
my body under ceaseless attack,
a thousand steely swords hack at my limbs,
I cannot move now, weighed down by it all.
I break down on the cobbled street beneath my feet,
on hands and knees, sobbing, begging,
Please God, make this stop! My flesh burns,
I feel as though a thousand plagues have decended upon me.
Why? Why did she have to say those three little words?
My life is in ruins because of it,
all because she said;
Sorry, its over...