A drenched, rugged mutt pads wearily along the side of the freeway.

He lifts his hooded face to reveal a young, bearded man- walking lopsidedly and ***** underneath the blacken sky. Who opened her bursting ***** to let down a million tiny droplets soaking him head to toe, and hes's got nowhere to go.

His face like an angel; still young, maybe only eighteen
with deep golden, chestnut eyes and long untameable
ash tinted hair. He'll never see himself as more than a ****** up, cold hearted ******* whose broken many and ultimately has paid his hell,  
by breaking himself.

The truth, couldn't be any farther than that.

Headphones stringing (both ears), from the inside of his semi-dry clothing  to a cell phone which resides inside his left jean pocket.
A musician, a drummer, he examines each song meticulously- every detail, analyzed- memorized.  And so, he keeps himself sane
counting the beats in his head, when he's walking through the rain.

*I'm grateful for whatever life may bring our way, as long as you're by my side on my dying day.