The Falling Rain.

Even the rain cannot cheer me up today
It sings sorrowful songs of morning
And cries
"Why could I not have been a drop of
Sunshine on your windowsill, my love"
It imitates a mourners tears
Falling limpid from the sky in
Pitiful self doubting swirls
Rather than prancing from the clouds
With a random, hyper, and spontaneous joy.
Today the rain does not fall on my face
In happy splashes, it is cried and dribbles
Down with a morose desolate emptiness.

This rain drones to me
A scarcely bearable static running
Through my mind instead of
Dancing from the fingertips of lightning
And celebrating the exuberant call of
Thunder. This rain is drooled from the
Corner of a cloud, it seems into
The world around the edges.
All that is living and green cry
For it to leave, it is to heavy a
Burden to bear.