Rain.

There's something about rain,
Hitting grounds, slipping through drains.

Soft then loud, crowded with clouds.
No one speaks when nature is talking.
Streets are gloomy yet colored with umbrellas walking.

I sit on my bed with a book in one hand,
The rain beats to the rhythm of my reads.
My coffee rests on my bed side table,
As the thunder reminds me when to sip and proceed.

The rain keeps knocking on my window pane,
It sings me a mellow lullaby.
With my eyes half closed, I watch the plants rejoice.
I gently fall asleep to the sound of rain's voice.

*Inspired by a conversation with my best friend, Carmen S.

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