Standing still as a boulder,
Knowing I should head inside.
Every passing minute I only grow older,
Down my arms the beads of water glide.
Harder now, the rain is pouring,
Still, I don't want to budge.
The world around me carries on, but I just stand ignoring,
Even when my mascara runs and streaks my face in a smudge.
Dying down like a withering rose,
I wish it could wash away my flaws.
The wind is howling as it steadily blows,
And the raindrops hit the ground like applause.