What is it with the rain?
Always uttering incomplete thoughts.
I sit down and listen,
but it abruptly ends.
What is it with the rain?
ending when I need more.
I miss the gentle taps,
the loud pours,
the steady rhythms, so serene.
What is it with the rain?
Ending with an incomplete thought.
Doing an imitation of life, nothing lasts too long.