Rain
Pitter
The sky is dark.
The sun is hiding.
So are the children,
quaking in their boots,
clutching to their teddy bears.
Patter
Pitter
The trees sag,
weighed down by
the quivering little bulbs.
Wet worms writhe
on the cool cement of the sidewalk.
Patter
Pitter
Intimidating umbrellas
shield the shadowy faces of passerbyes.
Clear, globular droplets
congregate on windows,
blocking our view of the dreary outside.
Patter
Pitter
The rain has many flaws.
Yet I
love to laugh in it,
love to dance in it,
and have learned to love it.
Patter.
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Note from the Poet:
I like when it rains in the morning. Not so fond of when it rains in the afternoon. Not exactly sure why. I also like the feeling when you step outside right after a torrential downpour, because the air feels so crisp, clean, and fresh. Oh, and there's {} <-parantheses around the title because apparently 'Rain' is too short of a title. Vote&comment! Thanks :)
