Saturday, October 8, 2011

Wet Window

Through tired eyes and a window pane
I stood and watched the
Falling rain
Many a drop ran to its end
Finding a puddle with which
To blend
And lose its individuality
A victim of conformity

Others clung and held their shape
But they fell to a different fate
The Sun appeared
And boiled them dry
Is it better to conform
Or fry?

Frankston, 1981

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