Poem I wrote in my sparetime.

Tears in Rain

by Oliver Evans

Wretched rain bellows above me and you
a weary gaggle with dwindling view.

Whilst we drift, quiver, checkout and bicker
their sodden scraps are all we shall hear.

‘There is no rain it doesn’t exist’
it shall end soon rather; once its all fixed.

Flung into ferocious wind, blustering
to strike the teddies; invoke the wailing.

Snow and hail too kindles the bones,
the gambler’s wager is endlessly owed.