Countenance the Rain

Rain patter-pitters on the windowsill. Shouts echo through the hall- broken glass, hours pass. I have seen the countenance of the rain, It shrouds my hill.   I watch-listen for others who felt the chill, Those who have countenanced their rain- attractive powders, withered flowers. Nobody agrees on the countenance of the rain, Yet it hangs o'er still.   Rain drip-drops on the windowsill. The torrent weakens as I find others- sullied kids, innocent teens. As we each add our own countenance to the rain, Each cloud we will kill.   As we countenance the rain, As we each add our countenance of the rain, The countenance of the rain fades. We can lift our countenances through each other, Making others aware of our situations weakens The countenance of the rain. 

This poem is about: 
Me
Our world
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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