You say “The rain is not my friend” But how do you figure that? It falls on your head and mine alike. It does not judge or pretend To laugh at your jokes. It is both cruel and kind, Giving and devastating, But it’s not personal, I promise. It doesn’t see class or color Or the number in your bank account It won’t worry you about Fitting into those new pants Or finding the perrrrr-fect shoes It will be there when you are happy And dancing Also when you are broken And crying In fact I think... The rain may be the very best of friends A human like us could have.