Before the storm

A branch of tree falls and we look at back at the time , when the tree was complete.
but who says the tree is incomplete now.
Now that there is a storm, there is a memory of breeze.
the rain is here for me it embraces everyone without asking for anything back.
Now I look at the sky and it reminds me that it was blue.
The storm is just the way it is, it hurts everyone, even though it never meant to.


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