Whistling while it drops,
A song it sings as it cascades.
A song that I hear often, from the brokenhearted.
A hollow heart deep in a pit full of filth.
Its world stoops and adrenaline is spent.
As it descends into the open arms of spite.
But all its pain ceases, as it lays a thousand pieces upon a rock.
A Poem by Tonny Wandella