I’ve lived below the winter skies,
they carry with it the tears of shattered dreams.
From far across war torn lands, our rainy days are nothing but blessings.
I’ve looked through misty windows at the deception we call war.
No cause, no reasoning, no justification for those that lose their only source.
If only we could see what the blind do, hear what the deaf can, speak out what the innocent feel.
Maybe then the damage done can be washed away on rainy days.