Rain poem

What is it about the rain.

Maybe because it is the only thing left that man cannot touch.

Its anger may kill us

and there is nothing we can do.

It makes one feel small

to know the rain,

the lightning, the thunder.

The largeness of it all

envelops the sun

until even the tallest building

casts no shadow.


Everybody runs from the rain.

Everybody hides.

The ones who embrace the rain are anomalies.

To stand in the rain

is to stand alone.

There is a stereotype that these are the ones who know how to live.

No. These are the ones who turn to embrace

their own destruction.

And in doing so,

they live more brightly.

Under the flickering lightning

only they

cast shadows.

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