It Was Inevitable Poem by Dwight Jenkins

And so it rained.
The wind blew.
The air turned cold.
The sky turned gray.
And it rained the rest 
Of the day.

I guess it had to be this way...

Then the sun came,
Gray waves of heat floating
Over my parchment,
 
Ghosts fleeing light
Like wispy smoke from a
Slowly dying fire.
 
A Dying Fire.
Someone lives… someone dies.
Unnerved, I returned
 
To my stark room
Where dark clouds ever loom
But rain never falls,
 
And calls to ‘change'
Never, ever come.