Clear rain

I look to see a storm outside. The tears that fall from it, are not crystal clear. Instead they are an off color, like a fake tear. The storm starts to cry more false tears, tying to get some true tears in. But we have polluted our sky so, that they may not be any pure water left. But I still hope and dream, that one day our air will be clean. And when it is, maybe I can see that clear rain again.