ShyEyes
Newbie
The asphalt cools beneath the grey,
as heavy clouds roll softly in,
and wash the noise of yesterday
from everywhere the day has been.
Each rhythmic drop against the pane
cancels the rush, slows down the street,
and in the coolness of the rain,
the frantic world accepts defeat.
You do not have to grow or bloom
every single hour under the sun—
sometimes the sky needs darker room
to clean the canvas when you're done.
So let it pour, let shadows fall,
and leave the heavy work outside;
the storm is answering the call
to give the weary place to hide.
as heavy clouds roll softly in,
and wash the noise of yesterday
from everywhere the day has been.
Each rhythmic drop against the pane
cancels the rush, slows down the street,
and in the coolness of the rain,
the frantic world accepts defeat.
You do not have to grow or bloom
every single hour under the sun—
sometimes the sky needs darker room
to clean the canvas when you're done.
So let it pour, let shadows fall,
and leave the heavy work outside;
the storm is answering the call
to give the weary place to hide.
