The rain

The rain,

Its such a marvelous thing.

Washing away the impurities

Splashing against the ground

Like small soldiers dropping


Scrubbing away all the ugly.

Destroying all the bad of yesterday.

I lay in the tall grass.

Thinking of yesterdays troubles.

The sky goes dark

The clouds start to rumble.

And the down pour begins,

Washing me.

Washing me clean.

Clean of their words,

Words of venom

Flowing in my veins.

I never could fathom

The resentment I felt.

But now the rain

Cool, slippery, and innocent

Sliding slowly over the impurities

Gently washing them away

Like little soldiers 

Scrubbing, scrubbing away their words. 

I have come clean

No longer bothered by their quarrel. 


Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 


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