The raindrops touched my cold skin,
and the already wet me winced,
the wind was painfully slashing my naked shin,
my hair was frizzy,wiry and dishevelled,
now it looked drenched and dirty.
The roads pricked my forefoot,
the rain drain pained my sore bruises,
it even drenched my dry mattress and jute,
how I hate the wind,but dread the pours,
all my loots are now sooty.
My pale face looks paler and milky,
my shelter of the shut shop floor drips,
In my younger years, leafs were silky,
Keats wrote the raindrop slips,
brings in new hope,new dawn.
But no,not here,
I want the sun bright,
the cloudless sky,blue and clear,
its harder to soak than be burnt,
I hate rains, no, it isn't so pretty.
I hear how rain brings romance,
I hear of how it makes music,
My life is worse due to its menace,
it makes me shiver and sick.
Oh, stop you devil!! I am a done playing the sad damsel!!
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