As I sit
Below the roof
Of my little home
I hear the raindrops
Falling on the
Roof of my home.
There’s a perfect rhythm
Of the raindrops falling
As they race to
Reach the ground
And formulate
A melody
With their pitter patter sound.
I let the
Smell of petrichor
Fill my nose
As the raindrops
Continue falling on the roof
Of my little home.
The evening had been pleasant
Before the rain
Became loud,
Like the loudspeakers
In a party
When blasted on full sound.
There was suddenly
A shift
In the vibe
Of the day
As if the rain
Had gotten angry
And turned into hail.
The sweet melody
Of the rain had
Turned from
Soothing to blaring
As the moment had changed.
The holes
In my roof
Were visible now
As the hail
Continued falling
With a loud sound.
All that remained
Was a thought that came
Will this hailstorm
Turn back into rain?
YOU ARE READING
Scribbled Poetries
PoetryA collection of poems written by me. I'll try and post everyday. Comment and tell me how my poem was!
