The Rain
I used to love the rain.
The smell of wet dirt
The sound of the patting on the roof top
The wet banana tree leaves swaying around from the giant cloud man blowing on them.
Back then life was simpler
We would watch Karate shows when the lightning wasn’t so bad
Or Mowry or Jerry when we had the luxury of affording cable.
Life was simpler then,
Or was it just my innocence?
Now when I hear the rain
The only thing I feel is the rain coming from my eyes
The beating of my chest when I feel attacked.
The sound of savagery, disrespect, and asks for favors that are never returned
All I see are the faces of bodies around
The faces that have that judging look
The ones that don’t accept me for me
Or is it just adulthood?
-S