I want to cry rivers.
I want to scream storms.
I want to show you the thoughts you make me think.
But the weather’s too good,
and you’re in a nice mood.
But the sun will rise again,
and down goes the moon,
and the bugs will sooner eat my mind
before I give a piece to you.
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Author:
ᴍᴏᴏɴ (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: August 31st, 2026 03:52
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 27
- Users favorite of this poem: sorenbarrett, Tristan Robert Lange, A.N., Fränz Müller
- In collections: ᴄᴏɴꜰᴇꜱꜱɪᴏɴꜱ.

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Comments3
The emotions overflow in this poem where a can is opened finding it overfilled. I have felt this before when the weather is too good to disturb and the moment passes making it too late for intervention all to experience a calm and sunny day. Lovely a fave
What a sharp little piece, Sylva. It holds back a storm of feeling beneath an almost peaceful surface...and that refusal to hand over even one more piece of yourself gives the ending real force. Beautifully done, my friend. 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
Sometimes we need to hold onto things that are just for us.
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