Poem: Soaking

Trying to wait for the sun, but I always end up in the rain.

Wondering why it keeps pouring the closer I get.

Trying to run back inside before I end up soaking.

Then suddenly just stop in the middle and looking up from my tears.

Wondering why does this happens to me?

Is my love not worthy of brighter days?

Is this why I never see the sun until it almost gone.

Worrying why am I getting wet.

Instead of trying to figure out ways to stay dry.

I cannot see the end of rain; I can only see where it begins.

I only see the pouring that used to feel like pain.

Pain that no longer hurts, just keeping me numb.

Thinking this is where I belong.

This is my home I have cried.

Unable to stay dry, always stuck in the middle of the storm wondering how to get out.

Secretly wanting to stay in.

Poem: Wet

The rain is still falling, but I cannot feel it.

I cannot see it, but it is all around.

I see the people getting wet, yet I am dry as ever.

I look up and I still see it fall everywhere, but on me.

My neighbors are soaking yet and they are glade to be wet.

I am happy to be dry, but a part of me is wonder why?

Why can I not be like them?

Why must I always stay clean?

Why me?

I try move over to see if I can experience what they are feeling.

Then I stop and just cannot do it.

I paly it safe so that I can stay clear.

Deep down all I want to do is to be like them.

I know I cannot be I have to be like me.

I have to walk my own path and try not to get wet.