A Poem About Being Inside During Rain

I think there was too much of a pause between writing the first and second verse.
Maybe that pause broke the flow and led to the abrupt ending.

I feel like I’ve written a fragment of something longer here.
With time, maybe it could be acceptable.

Written at home.

—

Three warm flames slowly dance
Providing light in open space
Scented footsteps soon approach
And lead to presence in a room

Outside the rain roars and weeps
Inside its suggestion deafens
Air stays dry and moves slow
Hoping for a small reprieve

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About Stupidity Hole

I'm some guy that does stuff. Hoping to one day fill the internet with enough insane ramblings to impress a cannibal rat ship. I do more than I probably should. I have a page called MS Paint Masterpieces that you may be interested in checking out. I also co-run Culture Eater, an online zine for covering the arts among other things. We're on Patreon!
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