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Rated: E · Poetry · Writing · #2145089
poem about the rain
The rain falls,
and washes the earth clean,
it washes away all the bad, the ugly and the mean,
it is the cleansing that makes me whole,
picks me up, washes my soul.
I feel refreshed at the end,
its where my heart does stay,
its is still there and hidden away,
in a place up around a bend,
being watched over by a friend.

The rain falls,
it fills the gutters and the streets with life
it washes away the pain of life and the strife,
I could not want for anything more,
it stinks all the way through to my core,
it makes me feel good,
like a man really should.

The rain has stopped falling,
it is all done,
the clouds are moving,
they all do the same thing,
they run.
The day has started all anew,
It is now time for the truth to spew.
The clouds are gone,
they dissipated as the wind blew,
all is refreshed, all feels new.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2145089-The-rain-falls