Black Rains

Is luck a myth or reality likewise karma Are they false entities we've created or are they just a realm of superstition but I ponder not the facts nor these questions so why do I care Why do I persist to dabble in irrelevancy to distract my mind from the evils outside When did I become on the list of the punished What have I done so wrong to be on the receiving end of such a terrible robbery Why are you robbing me of my luck, my home of everything I love Why, when I finally fit in Why, when I've finally found my place I have to pack my bags, say 'Au revoir' like I didn't care at all about anything I've gained Would it be wrong for me to say I want my life to end or has it already My pen shares my grief as it allows a heavy cloud of black rain to dance along lines of blue grass in a melancholy connotation an expression of mourning for its distraught author but I decorate its work with malice and confusion Treat it like a canvas and decorate it in red to say 'the rain gave truth to what's in my heart but my heart is as black as I am red'