The rain poors slowly, but consistantly, creating the perfect, wet tambourine.

The boy in his sleep snores melodically.

The basketball hitting the ground creates the perfect rhythm, 

And the father who lifts his child to reach the skies celebrates hypnotically.


It's not one, but two.

It's not two, but three,

it's not three, but all

of these things I need. 

So, "pick one," you ask?

Well, that's serene,

You see, it's as easy as 123


I need the rain that slowly pours,

I need the boy that surely snores,

And what about the ball, you ask?

I need that too, no doubt of that.


So, ask me again, what I need most

And I'll tell you one thing without any strife.

The only thing that could come close

To what I need... is life. 

This poem is about: 
My community
Our world
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 


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