When it's raining
I can't decide
If it's the sky
Screaming out in agony,
With broken roars of thunder
And brilliant, crashing streaks of lightning
Or
If it's the sky
Releasing all it has to offer
In gentle tears of rain
Filled with all the sorrows
And regrets
Of its blue wonderland.

Maybe the sky
Is never sure how
To release all its anger,
All its sadness,
All its confusion.
And so on some days
It rains,
Crying softly.
And on others,
It screams
And shouts
With thunder.

Maybe we
Are like the sky.

(a.m.)