Produced by @B-RadGfromOV

It begins with the cold of word of the wind on the skin
from within the sentiments from the blood which it’s written in
the strength that was given in from the riddling imaging
has painted a picturesque mimicking mirroring

of a time in a space that exists in a place
where we have no reason to chase the state of this race
no time on the clock to watch as seconds tick along its face
no wrinkles that crinkle under freckled specs in the light of day

grow old with ink bold of statements made in the play
press pause on the rewind and watch it back again another way
seemingly spit the spray to tell the rain to go away
go, go-away and come again another day

cloud chasers and dream catchers filter precipitation
medication alleviates the chills with sedation
each drop on the epidermal layer causes sensation
emotionlessly grey to the glistening buildings adjacent

liquid runs down-hill to the gutter from the pavement
swept into the storm water slipways for drainage
picking up the dirt and the dust that was once a part of us
like the lies, love and the lust, and the bonds that we trust

turning the weld slag to rust and softening the crust
flash flooding churning a puddle yearning to become a gush
thundering torrents warrant a change in tide
uprooting the legs you planted within the souls of hides

soaking sore feet from a tired workers shift
spirits uplift with the cooling precipitating rift
empowered to feel alive by the draft of the showers
as the homeless man curls in a box caressing his bag as he cowers

everything in the path of the rain is devoured
by melancholy probably drizzled upon properly
left wet weak , damp and dank sloppily
when it rain it pours, captivatingly,

precipitatingly yours