There is hail knocking on my window
There is hail knocking on my door
There isn’t supposed to be any hail here
But the hail keeps knocking more
It’s shouting “Let me in! Let me out!”
I grow tired and blue
There is beer bottles on the floor
Some are old, some are new
A few are cracked, others fine
I fear I’m losing my mind
But the hail keeps on knocking
And I know that it’s time
The weathermen and meteorologists should be coming soon
But apparently there’s not enough evidence, so they stay in their rooms
The hail attracts some viewers, but I really don’t care
If they become trustful witnesses, I encourage them to stare
But there’s a mole inside the house, one who loves the hail
Although it makes their hair fall out and their skin to turn pale
It makes them stressed, it makes them sad
It makes them bruised, it makes them mad
I try to speak up but my voice is simply gone
There is no more hope for peace to ever spawn
So I sit and stay quiet, waiting for grief and for gore
So maybe then the mole won’t open to the hail anymore.
3d ago
May 31, 2026 at 5:15 AM UTC
How unfortunate
The bird flies yet sees no joy
Falls down, falling down
One hundred meters
Its wings remain by its sides
Goes down, going down
Seventy meters
The clouds and the ground too far
Glides down, gliding down
Just fifty meters
Grass isn’t any greener
Zings down, zinging down
Only twenty left
Eyes closed and body waiting
Comes down, coming down
Ten meters to go
Each blade of grass countable
Soars down, soaring down
Only ten seconds
Now only seven seconds
Crash down, crashing down
Five, four, three, two, one
The bird colors the ground red
Nothing but silence
3d ago
May 31, 2026 at 5:10 AM UTC