Didn't spend very long on this poem, please let me know what you think!
You can't make a rainbow,
Nor strive to reach the pot of gold -
It's story of colour can never be told.
Unless the skies completely split,
And the rain can steadily, heavily fall.
For without the storm there is no rainbow at all.
And doesn't that just fit?
With life and the world,
And all that comes with it?
Unless you suffer, and struggle and have pain.
Unless you have a little rain,
You cannot have the happy ending,
You cannot have a bright rainbow pending.
That's why it's called a rainbow.
First comes the relentless grey of rain,
Then the happy, colourful gain.
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Reviews: 20