Oh how it pains when it rains,
Washing away past with gloom,
This makes the trees look the same,
All dripping they loom,
In the grey of today.
The sun would sing its song,
But its life stayed away,
On better days which have gone,
Like the dreams of today,
Washed away like the gloom.
It free falls to the ground,
As hard as it dares,
It bursts in an instant,
With the slightest of cares;
Then it runs away again.
As it continues to knock,
On the cold window panes,
While it soaks through the clothes,
And it flows down the drains;
I’ll not let it in!
In the distance the sun,
Leaves its cloudy domain,
Oblique squibs of light,
Commonplace once again-
Whether forbidden or not,
It seems so untrue,
But it’s not a mirage,
The sun makes all new.
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