You might be wondering why I'm posting some literary pieces here. It's simple - literature is life. According to my Literature Teacher way back in college, we write because we like writing. Literature is sharing what you think to other people, regardless of what they will think after. It is you who made it because you considered it as your life.
Anyway, have you ever wondered why poems are so hard to understand? I admit, I sometimes have a hard time comprehending with every word written in a poem. I couldn't disagree with the words because they were the author's expressions. Since then, I lose my appetite for poems, until a friend of mine wrote a very simple poem. A poem that was not just created out of expression or thought but a poem to move a reader. This poem was very simple and well delivered. I couldn't disagree with the written thoughts because they were all based on reality.
Before you read the poem, I would like to give my full acknowledgement to Christine Guerrero Jacinto who made this poem. Kudos Christine.
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Who Can Tell of the Rain
7:50 AM |
Labels:
literature
WHO CAN TELL OF THE RAIN
Who can tell of the rain? Not I, nor can the sun,
I can only tell of sunshine; and battles fought and won.
I cannot tell of sadness; I cannot tell of pain.
I cannot tell of rejections: I cannot tell of mistakes.
I cannot tell of wishes said unless they have been fulfilled.
I cannot tell of flowers dead, nor hopes that have been killed
I cannot tell of forgotten dreams except those that have come true.
I cannot tell of gray-slate skies, only of those that are brightly blue.
I cannot tell of tears that fall, only of smiles and laughter
I cannot tell of broken hearts, only of love, true and undying
I cannot tell of bitterness, only sweetness, love and care.
I cannot tell of the rain, only of rainbows and tomorrow
I can only tell of happiness: never pain, never lies, never sorrow.
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