Raindrop, Raindrop

Published on 31 May 2017 at 10:11

Raindrop, raindrop, why don’t you stop?

Let the grass grow, and watch the bunnies hop.

Raindrop, raindrop, I’d like for you to know

that even though I love you so, I need you to go.

 

Raindrop, raindrop, you’re only good for one day—

that is all that I ask of you: that you never stay.

And I know that you would rather sleep,

before you lose your mind—before things get too deep.

 

So please, rest your heavy eyes and curious mind,

for I know that you find reality in a twine,

wrapped around your heart and your brain,

so that you may cry out—scream in pain.

 

Just remember that you will feel no sorrow,

if you look toward a sunny tomorrow.

Raindrop, raindrop, do you understand

that it is quite okay to fall upon land?

 

Sometimes that’s the hardest thing to do.

Sometimes it’s even easier to tell her, “I love you.”

But when you give yourself away,

just to make her love you—to make her stay,

 

then you are no longer yourself.

And truthfully, it’s not good for your health.

That is something that I’ve learned

from watching you—and now it is my turn

 

to find myself, to bring him back,

to where the both of us are very intact.

So, raindrop, raindrop, I’ll say it again—

please, won’t you stop? Just let things end.

 

It would be much easier that way

than trying to have you stay.