Beneath the pitter patter of streetlight rain
I stand independent from care and thought,
as traffic passes by in a whirl of technicolor.
I observed as dreams weave loosely in wind,
and extended, both arms like a foolish child.
Upon the pavement, I see world’s reflection.
I figure it’s not who we’re that holds us back,
glancing out the window, at felicity and woe
rather, it’s societal pressure, that proscribes.
Remember, every cloud, has a silver lining.
Photo credits: Pinterest
Posted on Poems in April @ Real Toads