Thunder cracks in dreary stone split skies. Jarred
As the looming clouds, I am drenched in blues
As I scrap the scribbled lines I learnt by heart
For you. Another wasted sonnet fused
By tears and cloudburst with pain. The storm
Of my soul plays an aimless song again,
A cyclone melody trapped by its form.
Fourteen lines rotate like a weather vane
Searching for the direction I can’t find,
While new rain in this constant streaming city
Spirals the memories stuck in my mind.
I’m left with the rhymes of strained self-pity
As I slowly trace the trickle of drops
And wait inside for the storm to stop.
A University of Manchester deal with Transport for Greater Manchester means that the 41 is free for one year between Campus and Manchester Victoria, in an effort to tackle cost of living for students and support sustainable travel
