Rain

The world looks different when it rains
And maybe it is
Maybe people change when it rains
The drops, so like tears, hit their open,
vulnerable faces and they turn away, curl in on themselves.

Sometimes the downpour beats upon the roof
Like ancient Indian drums
That keep you awake for the most part of night
And in fantastic beastly nightmares the rest

And yet, other times the rain is so violent
You feel like going out and crashing your car
Just to see if the rain will wash away all the sounds;
Even though you know you won’t dare

Then there are those little morning trickles
that is stopped by the window panes
It does not impose on your lives
And it does not resemble tears
You close your eyes and you go back to sleep.