Many Storms

Looking out the window after the storm,
the sky seems so clear;
just because the gray clouds are gone, doesn't mean there isn't trouble still near by.
It is there, lurking, waiting for the right time to strike.
It's watching and waiting for day to turn into night.
Many storms come, and they go. Endure, take shelter, hold on.
You will see that you are strong.
I hope the rain grows you up, use those tears.
For if you don't wilt dear flower, you were always meant to stand, even if it is, alone.