The Rain

There are days when there’s not a single cloud in the sky

But, all I remember are the times where the entirety of it was covered 

In thick black clouds. When the heavens poured down and I had

No coverage, no umbrella, just me, by myself. Alone. Without protection

From the elements. Those are the days that stick out to me more than any other.

The wet clothes, bone chilling winds, the mud and the dreck. Having to make it home

To rush inside. To stand next to the cheap heater. I then jump in the shower and turn

On the hot water. All of it flows down the drain together. The rainwater. The tears. 

The sweat. The crud. The blood. I stand under that hot stream and I think about

How I would appreciate some days that were brighter. 

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