When I was younger I used to always cry.
Remembering the feeling of the tears go falling meekly by.

So unhappy was I then, never did I wonder.
Where my tears would ever land,
or what they would plunder.

For when that water hits the earth it starts a whole new flight.
Born of air and free from care, will it fall from tallest height.

Perhaps that tear will find a puddle, and become a little larger.
Perhaps the suns rays will evaporate this puddle making it sparser.
becoming even smaller. Faster and faster.

Until that tiny tear makes it's way to the sky.
With all the other water vapor passing it gently by.

Maybe they will all join together to form a solid cloud.
Which will move exuberantly here and there,
gliding far with flair.

Until the cloud can cope no longer
Letting lose a mighty row.
Everything comes falling down
moving too and fro.

An older I looks looks up with joy.
As the raindrops pass me by.