A Search No More

You look so hard,

So hard you stop.

And when you stop,

Is when it comes.


When it comes it pours,

It pours down like rain.

A long awaited rainstorm,

The drought is no longer.


No longer is the pain,

The pain you were given.

A given security,

The blanket is there.


You look so hard,

So hard you stop.

And when you stop,

Is when it comes.

By: Courtney Swain

writing and poetry