When I was five I stood outside,

Amidst the nightmare of any young bride.

The people around me would sulk and sigh,

As the dreary old nimbus hung over the sky.

But as the teardrops fell from up above,

I noticed that rain was something I loved. 

Into the house the adults would scuttle,

As I began splashing around in a puddle.

I wished the rain would stay.

Yet as each day passed,

My attention was more on my class.

Outside the window would rattle with rain,

But the only hurricane I knew was inside my brain.

The idea of my hair getting even a little bit wet,

Caused a storm to become something I tended to fret.

How could I let myself begin to sulk and sigh?

How could I forget the beauty of a young, thundering sky?

I wished the rain would stay.

Now I know that with each breaking day,

The raindrops and lightning will not always stay.

The sun will rise, the moon will fall,

And the universe will spin until death greets us all.

So though it might seem silly to think like a child,

Maybe it is the only way to live free and wild.

To splash in puddles no matter your age,

Because life is about more than just receiving minimum wage.

Oh, how I love the rain.