Tin ManA Poem by Tate Morganit is such a strange thing to be human
I hear the rhythm of the rain wind-whipped drops falling to the ground Tapping on the old window pane there's music in that lonesome sound
Skipping through the morning shower daisies covered by mist in dew Calm and warm so tame with power life springs forth all fresh and anew
Watching the world's sins melt away gifting life with the chance to be Feeling the sun light up the day washing the blues away from me
Like the man built solely from tin with a chest full of broken dreams The rain falls softly on my skin nothing quite the way that it seems
Watching the clouds that turn to rain falling on the glass by and by They run down from the window pane before the grace of you kneel I
© 2019 Tate MorganAuthor's Note
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StatsAuthorTate MorganMarion , OHAboutAvailable from Amazon XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX I am a product of the Midwest. Raised on the plain states of North America. I was nurtured on a .. more..Writing
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