Someone Like My Father Poem by Aldo Kraas

You, sixty years ago, Father molded my soul,
Crafted me with hands, made my spirit whole.
Placed me on this Earth, it's the world I know,
Now I'm living, breathing, through the highs and lows.
Got used to the ground, these skies, this dirt,
But the heat's on blast, man, it starts to hurt.
Feel the sun bearing down, got me movin' slow,
Sweat drips, mindset's begging for the H2O.
Father, bring the rain, let it wash the pain,
This heat wave's insane, make it cool again.
We need that cleanse, let the storm regain,
Father, hear my plea—let the skies explain.
Saw the trees wiltin', rivers runnin' dry,
Clouds disappear while the birds don't fly.
Lethargic, stuck like I'm glued to the ground,
In this desert of heat, we need a turnaround.
The breeze ain't speakin', the streets on fire,
Ain't no break in the weather, just gettin' drier.
I hate this burn, this relentless flame,
Father, send some love so we can escape the game.
Father, bring the rain, let it wash the pain,
This heat wave's insane, make it cool again.
We need that cleanse, let the storm regain,
Father, hear my plea—let the skies explain.
Pour it down, let the thunder roll,
Let the lightning spark, let the waters hold.
Heal this land, cool the fire in my brain,
Father, listen close, bring us back the rain.
Father, bring the rain, let it all sustain,
Turn the dust to life, let it ease the strain.
From your holy hands, let salvation reign,
Father, save our souls—let the rain remain.