Rain's Lament Poem by Noah Collins

Oh, woe to us whom must always fall
To ground so low from heights so tall.
Our life cycles in one big path
From sky, to earth, to sky, to earth.

We're rose to the highest portions of the sky,
to places where not even the hawks will fly.
Only to be cast down toward the ground.
Spinning, falling, faster, faster...
To be smashed once we reach our rest.
Only to be reassembled, and broken again.

Oh, woe is the life of rain.