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RAIN, by                    
First Line: Stumbling down a cobbled street
Last Line: Cluttered in the antique store?
Subject(s): Rain


Stumbling down a cobbled street,
Unconscious of the heavy beat
Of rain upon his tattered clothes,
The man from nowhere, nowhere goes.

Halting in the glaring light
That half-dispels the gloom of night,
He fumbles in his pockets wet
To find a half-smoked cigarette.

Sheltered by an antique store --
Forgotten faces, ancient lore --
He sees a baby's picture there,
Dimpled cheeks and golden hair.

What is it his eyes would speak?
Is that rain upon his cheek?
Why does he stumble in the rain?
Can it wash away his pain?

A tragic story no one knows!
The man from nowhere, nowhere goes.
Is more than mere forgotten lore
Cluttered in the antique store?





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