The Storm Inside Poem by Micronjan (Micron)

Sometimes the clouds rain, the sky turns gray,
Matching the weight of what hearts can't say.
It hangs so low like it knows my name,
The world remembers the same old pain.

The rain taps softly on broken time,
Each drop a memory, each beat a rhyme.
Old streets return in my drifting mind,
With faces and voices I left behind.

Longing lives where the past won't fade,
In quiet corners where love once stayed.
It doesn't shout or ask to be seen,
It breathes in the space of what might've been.

The thunder weakens, grows tired and slow,
Leaving silence in its afterglow.
I sit and listen, nowhere to run,
When even the storm feels overdone.

The weather and I wear the very same,
Coats stitched together by sorrow and rain.
No place to hide, no end in sight,
Just tears that fall from day to night.

So let it pour, let the heavens break,
Let clouds hold the ache I can't forsake.
In rain and pain, in loss and art,
The sky still listens to my heart.