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.