Dreary raindrops drip
Racing down the window
Blurring my sight of the world.
We’re moving now –
Unless that’s just the world
Spinning around me,
Trapping me in its tornado of uncertainty.
Or maybe I’m the one spinning,
Going out of control
With no sight of what is right or real,
Hair flying like a madman’s
Whipping through the cold air
And the bright white gusts,
As I attempt to keep up my defenses
Against everything else caving in.