Pabsdorf's Regnen Poem by Dozie Wogu

I sat up not to daybreak
My atmosphere is above room temperature
Mumbling some words to the Divine
Thanking Him for a New Day
Then,
I trudge to my Frühstück
But, through the fenster
I see those drizzling strings
Oh! ! Not again, I muttered
Gestern was like this
All day, it tormented me
Not to talk of the late night ride back to strasse vier,
It kept me peddling in slow motion
With African chills on my thighs
It's a sort of Africa's seven seven
But I do not like it
Because it's there but,
I can't hear anything
Or maybe the food house is not silent enough
Even the African seven seven
Drops on the roof tops like tiny pellets
Not to mention the mighty war of the cats and dogs
Well! I said,
This is not Africa's himmel
It's Pabsdorf's Regnen