rain.
Rain.
I like the rain.
I like the smell of rain.
I like the slight mist across my face when it lands on the ground.
But I don't like getting wet.
I want it to stop raining.
I want to be dry.
Why is it still raining?
I'm under the awning.
Why is it still raining?
I did what I supposed to.
That's not fair.
- Jack Stauber
This poem is about:
Our world