In the rain

I stood tall in the rain
and the droplets fell
indifferently to my complexion.

I wondered what was real--
what might feel real--
my body was weak
after ten hours of sleep.

I have been missing classes;
what project is too big
to flit from my shaking fingers?

It seemed like everything,
like it was too much to hold a cherry in my hand
and watch it smolder.

It was an unknown emotion
that shed off on everything;
a grey filtered lens
that shown only tragedy.

Night and day are making the difference
from contentious firestorms muted with compressors
to the still sounds of a pond at twilight.

I am still struggling,
everyday is the new struggle
as I create more and more:
the problems I embed,
the prayers I read,
the verse in my head,
my motif drowning me in bed,
the façades I have led,
the waves I tread.

Can't get over it,
it's over in two weeks
and the pressure is mounting,
I feel the weight delay my thoughts;
I can't be late.

Be okay, be okay, be o
kay, be okay, be okay,
be okay, be okay,
be okay, be

I seldom try, I gave up months ago.

The rain is still falling overhead
and I'm holding the tarred butt.
All is still the same,
I hold my head in reverberating noise,
and I still feel lame.

Can they let me go?
Even labeled a failure
or a misguided success,
The rain falls down
on me and the rest.
2 Responses to “In the rain”
  1. Tammy says:

    Seems like I’ve read so many poems about rain today. You really conveyed a good panic in this poem. I love the okays.

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