| the rain always seems to come at the opportune moment to start again. | |
| after so many “one of these days,” came and went, | |
| the feeling of looking at your ground drenched in downpour | |
| omnipotent gaze through the screen door. | |
| a dejected pile of your recent pasts, last middle-of-street collapse | |
| rushing over the mound in the middle of the concrete | |
| washed down opposing gutters on the edge of the street. | |
| making their way to drains at the bottom of the hill | |
| emptying everything but you and yourself. |
| the rain always seems to come at the opportune moment to start again. | |
| after so many " one of these days," came and went, | |
| the feeling of looking at your ground drenched in downpour | |
| omnipotent gaze through the screen door. | |
| a dejected pile of your recent pasts, last middleofstreet collapse | |
| rushing over the mound in the middle of the concrete | |
| washed down opposing gutters on the edge of the street. | |
| making their way to drains at the bottom of the hill | |
| emptying everything but you and yourself. |
| the rain always seems to come at the opportune moment to start again. | |
| after so many " one of these days," came and went, | |
| the feeling of looking at your ground drenched in downpour | |
| omnipotent gaze through the screen door. | |
| a dejected pile of your recent pasts, last middleofstreet collapse | |
| rushing over the mound in the middle of the concrete | |
| washed down opposing gutters on the edge of the street. | |
| making their way to drains at the bottom of the hill | |
| emptying everything but you and yourself. |
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