It did not cease, no matter how many times I pleaded or begged.
The rain fell with unending grace, dancing upon windowpanes and sliding off of leaves.
I watched as the endless downpour threatened to lock me in the house,
You’re not leaving, you’re staying. You’re staying.
And I threatened back, I’m never going to love you again, rain. Never.
The confusing beauty of the rain wrapped me in a state of longing:
for the sunrise and its signaling rays – It’s time for breakfast! There’s a new day ahead of you!
But no, there were no bacon, eggs, and pancakes for me. I instead received a bowl of exasperation,
almost at ends wit, losing my patience.
The rain needed to go. But where?
I don’t know where you’re supposed to go, but you’d better leave.
You’d make me happier if you left. Thanks for passing by, but I’d rather wake up to blinding sunlight.
Go elsewhere, rain.
But it stayed longer, and I sat by the window, eager still, knowing it would leave.