Rain

It's a tear of a giant up in a cloud,
Where he crys and screams and bawls so loud,

His moans are the thunder we hear in a storm,
The lightning a flashlight so soft and warm,

The cloud is a pillow in which he may weep,
And when he is done he just drifts off to sleep.

Or it could be small water bowling balls,
From the angels inside the alley walls,
The lightning the lights in which they play,

The thunder is screams and shouts of hooray,
The sky plays the part of the alley floor,
And the clouds are just a few trapped doors.

It could also be the devil's shower,
The thunder is screams of a newborn flower,
The lightning is his wife turning on the light,

To see if she had to put up another fight,
The clouds are the mist from the hot, hot steam,
And last but not least is another scream.

Kalli Angel, Age 8