Sometimes, love just doesn’t work out. No matter what we do, it just escapes our grasp. It’s always hard to hang on when the other wants to let go, when the other just wants to slip away like water in between our fingers like rain that just falls naturally, conveniently, which is what this poem is called.


How convenient
that the rain fell
before your tears,
affording me to share
one last moment
with you under
my umbrella.

Every drop
of frigid rain
taunted you to stay
under my tempting
warmth and dryness.

Your vain effort to stop
the rain from falling:

you reached out
to catch a drop
on your palm.

It still fell. Heavy
embodiment of sorrow

of loss

– of the cloud
that failed
to hold on,

– of the wind
to return the drops.

Words condensed on my lips,
waiting for that moment
when air gives way
to thunder.

How convenient
That the rain
lingered on. Every word
that rolled off my tongue
merely fell into the dark
glassy puddle
that the rain filled
to reflect my bowed head.

Finally, I poured a plead
to make you stay.

You nearly did,
But conveniently,
the rain
wandered away.

Originally written on August 5th, 2003 and revised last on September 20th, 2008, this is the — hopefully — final version of it. This is for people who — like me — are loveless this Valentine’s Day.


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