The Rain Paradox

Poem-Story, Poetry
raining pours

Singh Photography X Bedroom Poet 

Rain can paradoxically be the thing that stops us from living, or the thing that reawakens our living.

When it rain, it pours.
Thunder all around
Across the moors.
All doors shut,
And back leans against yours.
You stop.
You stare,
Paralysed by fear’s glare.
But then you think,
“F*ck it, I’m going to do it anyway”.

 

The Last Saturday.

Poetry, rap, singer songwriter

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Sitting on a saturday night
Raindrops pouring
My mind’s finally right
Quit club flooring
Cuz’ it eclipsed all my light
Made me feel I was snoring
Through life’
And i’d never put up a fight
Against my base mind
Living, base lights,
Base nights.

So eclipsed in ignorant
So bare  belligerent
Angry that I could
Even be an equivalent
Looked at life
So indifferent…

Like an after dinner-game
To be played
On a rainy day.
Let today,
Be the last
Saturday.

Wasted Saturdays
Thinking I would change my ways
Looking for a brighter day
When I don’t  need the power of rain.