Rainy and Roaming

My thoughts on rain are always slain By busy men walking down the street With umbrellas high, tilted one side Not caring for a gloomy morning greet My thoughts on rain are seldom feign I hate the patter on lazy afternoons But as night falls, the memory crawls Of sliding skin and slow, fleeting tunes My thoughts on rain are of no gain As I see the clouds grey but blue They seem confused when they diffuse Some pain and life into the hue My thoughts on rain are wholly ingrained Into the window panes of my room They know my smirk, when the thunders jerk And my caustic weaving bloom My thoughts on rain do not blame The bleaching of the colours I see Some are washed away, some gasping lay With my thoughts bleeding from me.