it pours, and it sores

We used to sing the rain away

So in the fields we could run around.

That was when we were kids-

We didn’t know.

But days pass like raindrops racing to the earth.

Though not old,

We have grown.

We fear not the rain-

That which pours from the sky’s cerulean face.

But still we are afraid-

Because the rain is not always water.

Not always from the horrifying dark clouds.

And even if we sing,

We can drive it away not.

It sores even.