RAIN

petrichor hits my mind
through my knowing squint, and smile
off i am to stare at a wall through
my window i leave open to wander
thoughts on the droplets that hits the window
droplets that sieve through dusty net
resting some on my face lips and louvres
i try to write my name in the brown
of the louvres stained with dust and tiny droplets
it washes away with tiny droplets that hits the window
droplets that sieve through cleaner net
i try to write my name in the white
of the louvres cleaned with water from tiny droplets
it washes it away still, Years later
petrichor hits my mind
through my hair filled nostrils and scowl
off i am to lie on a floor through with
my window, i leave open to wonder
all my thoughts on the droplets that hits his window
knowing
that's not my name, that's not my rain
and never will i ever.



by
Victor Samuel