Like a falling drop
of innocent rain,
you once were here
but no longer remain.

Words fall easily
for some you say.
Making passing text
meaningless, in a way.

You already read
between the lines.
Assuming, believing
truth or lies.

Like a falling
drop of snow,
in days or weeks
you eventually go.

Seeping into streets
and homes, you belong.
And I become
a thought. A no one.