I start way up high,
with others like me in the sky.
I am a raindrop.
We are all the same.
None of us are the cream of the crop.
None of us are lame.
We are waiting up here.
Just waiting to go.
Up here in the atmosphere.
Waiting to flow.
First we must fall.
First it must be cold.
There is no warning call.
No sign of us getting old.
The warmth brought us here.
Cooling will do the opposite.
To allow us to fall like a tear.
To allow us to fall composite.
Then my journey will start.
I hope for great joy.
Like an actor getting to play their part.
Like a child getting their first toy.
I can feel the cold creeping in
and the warmth starting to fade.
Now my travels will soon begin.
Could my travel start with a glade?
Maybe I will land in a lake.
Maybe I will land in the city.
Hopefully not the latter for my sake.
For I may be stomped on without pity.
My time here is now done.
No more having to wait.
It is hopefully time to have some fun.
Falling, I will soon see my fate