It's a hard rain that's gonna fall,
On the fields where the silent crows call.
Where once were the sounds of children's glee,
Now only whispers of what used to be.
It's a hard rain that's gonna wash away,
The dreams we painted in colours of day.
The laughter, the love, and all we knew,
Drowned in the downpour, leaving no clue.
It's a hard rain that's gonna beat,
Against the windows, in the empty street.
Where lovers walked hand in hand with hope,
Now just memories with which to cope.
It's a hard rain that's gonna pour,
On the heart that can't take anymore.
The pain, the loss, too much to bear,
In the deluge, we gasp for air.
It's a hard rain, relentless and cold,
A testament to the stories untold.
But even as the storm rages on,
We find the strength to carry on.
For it's a hard rain, but it will end,
And in its wake, we'll start to mend.
With each drop, let the old depart,
And water the seeds of a new start.
This is version 1 of 2 poems written after listening to the man