It's raining, the deluge has begun. The sky has opened up, pouring its soul onto these grimy streets. The gush of rain wets the human face, wiping away the sweat of labour. Ceaseless in rhythm, it thunders on.
Covered in our mortar houses, protected from the elements, can you really speak about the beauty of every passing season. Even with my window open, I am seperated from what is raging outside.
I can hear the kids scream with delight but I only scream under the neon lights.Can the rain that washes away the deariness of a summer's day, cleanse this spirit of mine?
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