When it rains here, it pours.
It pours into my demure existence,
as I sit behind walls,
and look through the window at the water
that drenches me from head to toe,
without touching me.
How quickly the ground turns black
and breaths turn white
and the world turns grey.
When all the seven layers of heaven
are disguised behind a musky sky
and outside the rain statics
and dots my view.
Leaves shiver and shudder
and even inside in this place
of burnt umber and orange,
I feel cold.
Poetry » Life Rated: K+, English, Angst, Words: 95, Published: 10/5/2006