Once I fought the rain.
Screamed and spat
Upwards in vain,
In wild belief that
It should stop.
I cannot grasp it,
For it slips through
Unheeding, without wit.
Wet, unbiased hue
In cold clarity.
It continues to rain.
Perhaps I shall instead
Make use of this tool to
Shield and cover my head.
Yes, this umbrella will do.
It continues to rain,
But I now stand untouched.
YOU ARE READING
Chicken Scratch
PoetryHopefully an eventual collection of my poems, short stories, musings, random thoughts, etc.! Those barely legible little things that you'd write on a napkin in hasty afterthought? You'll totally find that here. Welcome to Chicken Scratch :D
