Love · Poetry · Travel

The Berlin Rain


Of my first impressions on Berlin… 

The neon lights shined on

lighting up the streets of Berlin,

The cold breeze hit my face,

but the raindrops felt like gentle pecks on my skin

 

Walking on that rusted & wired bridge

towards the old station to catch a train

I turned to my friend and spoke to him

of my thoughts on the Berlin rain

 

Oh Berlin rain!

 

Why did you feel like my own

and yet were not mine,

Why did you drench me and run away

only so I’d find solace in a bottle of wine?

 

So I did drink with gusto that night

laughing and losing behind your pain

Yet you trickled down through my hair

reminding me of your whispers again

 

I stood by the window, still with my glass

Dim outside, your droplets were on the sill;

I had taken shelter at last, but I missed you

and I wished for another heart for you to fill. 

 
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9 thoughts on “The Berlin Rain

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