Hurricane

I’ve never been one to mind a little rain.

Everything needs a little water to grow.

It’s when the hurricanes hit that I begin to quake.

A little rain won’t hurt they say,

but what do you do when you’re drowning?

Drowning in despair, emotions, thoughts

with no idea when or why the storm had to strike now.

Maybe you’ll get some false hope

in an eye of the storm where

you’ll let yourself believe

that it can get better; it will get better

only to be hit by the other half of the storm,

far more furious than the last.

All you can do is bunker down and stay inside,

hoping that this storm won’t be your last.

But that’s hard to do when you know at the end,

when the sun decides to make a reappearance,

you’ll be faced with the devastation and despair

that came from the havoc and furry of the beast.

It’s hard to let yourself rebuild everything up

when you know that at any moment

another hurricane could strike and tear you right back down.

I’d like to believe that horrible cyclones are few and far between,

but I’m more realistic than that.

Whether I intended to or not, I have to realize

that my life has set its roots on the coastline

and I am forever destined to keep being hit

by bad hurricanes over and over

and the only way out is to either succumb

or get my shit together and move out,

but that’s a lot more strength than you’ll find

behind these batters doors .

Quick Streaks

The rain falls quickly outside

and turns the sky a grey

that matches the shade of my sweater.

As depressing as it looks,

I still catch myself gazing

(blankly starring)out the window.

A woman drones on

about the importance of the work

I’ll be doing the rest of my life

but I cannot pay attention.

The quick streaks of white

that dash through my line of view

get me thinking; get me wondering

what am I doing with my life?

The days are dashing by

like the streaks of rain from the sky,

but unlike those cold, fat raindrops

I am not heading for a destination.

I am sitting at a desk wondering

what am I doing with my life?

Cool Summer Rain

There’s no feeling quite like a cool summer rain.

It comes and it goes, gently erasing pain.

Those huge, sweet raindrops wash the tears from my face.

For a short while, my sad thoughts they replace.

For a time, it is as though I am a child.

Living with reckless abandon. I am wild.

So what if the rain soaks through all my clothing?

Who is there to hear me as I twirl and sing?

For a short time, the rain clears me of sorrow.

I don’t seem to care what happens tomorrow.

The rain brings me joy that my life has forgot.

It is a happiness that cannot be bought.

But just like the storm,  the moment is fleeting.

Into myself, I’m already retreating.

I think to myself as the clouds start to wane

There’s no feeling quite like a cool summer rain