a single touch,
still brings out the child in her,
that use to run out
as the first drop of rain hit the earth.
She used to dance in joy as it pours down,
that child got lost as years pass by,
buried deep down in this busy world;
standing in line to compete with the rest,
where only one can win the race.
No joy, no happiness;
she forgot it all,
no more laughter as before
till one day she freed her burdens
dancing in the rain like she once did,
looking forward to a content life
where the race no longer mattered;
everyone was first in their own ways,
a topper in their own success,
each a different path,
each a different story,
with a purpose to win through life.
The introvert writer © 2022