Bare feet - thoughts..

I could write about war and death,
about the forgotten poor and the pains -
about power-hungry politicians
and all their hollow lies—
But not today.

I rather just stand barefoot in a puddle,
indifferent to the world's noise and sorrow,
feeling only the soft rain
on this quiet day in July.

Ah, the sky weeps for everyone,
but today, it feels like it weeps for me—
not out of grief,
but like a blessing,
brief and gentle,
like grace upon skin.

The puddle ripples beneath me,
cool against my feet,
as if the earth itself is sighing.

Clouds drift like slow thoughts overhead,
and the rain doesn’t fall—it lands,
like a secret - whispered to the leaves.

So I let the leaders lie,
let the missiles fly,
let the world keep shouting & cry.

Becourse
Today, I offer no outrage at all
Only silence—
Bare feet in a puddle,
at a rainy day in July.

TsL. 25
#mypoems