As the run away
Clouds of a named
Storm hits the city,
I sit underneath
Metal panels besides

Resting cars that
Sleep until it’s their
Turn to move again,
The water drainage
Always seems to be

Covered by leafs
Or some type of trash,
Creating a lake of
Rain water, not deep
Enough to drown

But deep enough for
It to grab onto
My ankles while
Drops disturb the
Calmness as the

Wind whistles through
The branches of tall
Trees that fill up the
Borders of the parking lot,
I light my second cigarette

As the water level rises,
And wonder and wonder
About doors and windows,
The ones that closed and
The ones that will open,

If I should climb to a second
Story given the chance,
Would I even get the option,
Happiness is around the corner,
And I remember I don’t know
How to climb,

So I’ll sit in a half full
Parking lot, and rest
For a little while longer
While I light a third
To those who have loved.