Making Plans
The weatherman forecasted rain
But I didn't listen.
Forecasts
Are often wrong anyway
(Rain clouds are so angry
They never listen to anyone).
I'm strolling
To a sunny rendezvous
When I see them
Rushing slowly towards me
Like a spillage towards an edge;
People usually catch them on umbrellas
But today
I didn't prepare for rain.
Soon the sky gets melodramatic
Shouting, flashing and crying
(Most likely at the ground)
And I'm caught in the middle.
Then I stop caring
And let the spillage flow over
(Like the blue of the sky
Did with the grey).
It surprises me to learn
That heavy rain can be refreshing too
Once it has passed.
