I would like to say that the rain makes me happy.
That I leap for joy and dash out under the thundering clouds to dance.
To sing.
To splash in the water and feel renewed as a child would do. 

But it rained today.

And I am no longer a child. 
I have seen the days pour like so many burdens that will never be relieved. 
Rainy days have a track record for hard days.
I tentatively tip-toe around the rain, pleading for an escape from the travesty.

Said travesty never comes.

I sit on my windowsill, watching as the drops come down.
Thinking of all the rainy days before this.
Heaven is crying, so why should I hold back my own tears?
Am I not worth all of heaven? 

The sun came out a little later.

And I could breath once more.
But the ache is still there.
From the rainshower of hurt something must spring forth.

Hey flower. 

The End

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