Its raining.
Not one of those light drizzles,
Where it looks like the water is,
Dancing back up to the heavens,
Reaching out longing to be in her grasp,
Once again.

I’m talking one of those dull, bleak, dismal, dreary,
Drizzling days where everything seems to have sweat glands.
Everything is wet, the paper to write the grocery list on moistens up,
And breaks under even the slightest touch of my pen,
And you cant even whip your own ass,
In fear that papers gonna stick to ya too.

Its just one of those days.
And it seems to go on forever.

Its just one of those days.