Tuesday Mourning

Tears drip from a dark, weary cloud

Soaking the world in a wet darkness

Dampening the spirits of the grass and the trees

So even the sun has it’s head bowed.

As the water falls below

It depresses the people

Who all long to get back into their beds

As every drowsy drop beats against their heads.

I’m so tired

Of being dictated by the weather.

A sleepy town rolls with the thunder

Barely blinking from the lightning’s flashlight.

“Are you awake?” She’ll ask.

“No,” and she’ll leave you back to crawl under.

Thus the dreary day drudges on

Showering everyone with sand

Thinking ‘Work with rain should be banned’

And no one bothers to ask

Why the sky is crying.