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Description
I imagined the clouds
yes the clouds appearing as one.
Like a group of fish.
Same color same motion.
Splatters of white sheds away
and grayness appears.
Darker and darker as the clouds slow down.
I can feel the air begin to moisten and feel
fresh like clothes coming out of the dryer.
Peoples voices begin to rise they speak of
a storm approaching.
They all start to run to their homes
to find comfort in another's arms as
they watch from their porch.
Not me.
I sit on the once cluttered bench,
remembering the kids eating ice cream,
and when they left adults talked
about failures in their lives.
Repulsive.
I don't worry about it
it'll all wash away soon.
The big tree behind me has it's branches
out opening up to embrace the storm.
The winds pick up and ravages the leaves.
They tear landing somewhere.
Droplets fall on the last ones to get into their homes.
I only smile.
Looking up droplets mark my face besides
my freckles light brown and small.
Droplets wet and clear.
The droplets become bullets hitting randomly
at inanimate objects missing me.
The thunder rolls against the clouds. Hard
and no sign of stopping.
Lighting strikes appearing as veins in the
gray sky. I get up taking off my jacket realizing
I must be crazy to dance in the rain.
Rain hits my face reminding me that
it's just me out here.
I feel gravity pulling me with the rain down as
I leap into the puddle.
my body freezes allowing myself to brush off the
pain in my head. I lay there as rain falls on me drenching
the driest areas of my clothes.
BEEP BEEP!
I scurry to the bench with fear piercing my heart rate higher.
As I sit the storm cringes away not wanting to harm anyone else.
Kids run out their doors but I notice an older man
I watch the old man he tips his hat with
a twinkle in his eye and a smile on his face.
I can't help but cry. The old man comes by
"Don't cry it'll wash away soon." before he leaves
he looks to the sky
as if he knows when the rains will come back.
It'll wash away. . . psh
there's still blood on my head.
I imagine that was all I thought.
Smirking because I don't feel the blood run down my fingers

Description
I imagined the clouds
yes the clouds appearing as one.
Like a group of fish.
Same color same motion.
Splatters of white sheds away
and grayness appears.
Darker and darker as the clouds slow down.
I can feel the air begin to moisten and feel
fresh like clothes coming out of the dryer.
Peoples voices begin to rise they speak of
a storm approaching.
They all start to run to their homes
to find comfort in another's arms as
they watch from their porch.
Not me.
I sit on the once cluttered bench,
remembering the kids eating ice cream,
and when they left adults talked
about failures in their lives.
Repulsive.
I don't worry about it
it'll all wash away soon.
The big tree behind me has it's branches
out opening up to embrace the storm.
The winds pick up and ravages the leaves.
They tear landing somewhere.
Droplets fall on the last ones to get into their homes.
I only smile.
Looking up droplets mark my face besides
my freckles light brown and small.
Droplets wet and clear.
The droplets become bullets hitting randomly
at inanimate objects missing me.
The thunder rolls against the clouds. Hard
and no sign of stopping.
Lighting strikes appearing as veins in the
gray sky. I get up taking off my jacket realizing
I must be crazy to dance in the rain.
Rain hits my face reminding me that
it's just me out here.
I feel gravity pulling me with the rain down as
I leap into the puddle.
my body freezes allowing myself to brush off the
pain in my head. I lay there as rain falls on me drenching
the driest areas of my clothes.
BEEP BEEP!
I scurry to the bench with fear piercing my heart rate higher.
As I sit the storm cringes away not wanting to harm anyone else.
Kids run out their doors but I notice an older man
I watch the old man he tips his hat with
a twinkle in his eye and a smile on his face.
I can't help but cry. The old man comes by
"Don't cry it'll wash away soon." before he leaves
he looks to the sky
as if he knows when the rains will come back.
It'll wash away. . . psh
there's still blood on my head.
I imagine that was all I thought.
Smirking because I don't feel the blood run down my fingers