Rainy Day

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Drippy drops race down the window.
I watch fluffy, grey clouds fill the sky.
What are they doing? I don't know,
Maybe I will, when pigs can fly.
I look at the people, rushing away.
I guess they don't like rain. I wonder why.
What are they all thinking?  Who are they?
Maybe I'll know, when pigs can fly.
The puddles reflect the world around.
It's so beautiful, I could cry.
The water rises, the buggies drown.~
I'll understand more, when pigs can fly.
I look out the window and ask to the quiet,
"Why does rain always make smiles die?"
It's strange to me, because I like it.
It won't be strange, when pigs can fly.

But... The rain has now stopped
And all I see is blue sky
And the window-drips have dropped
And piggies still can't fly.

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