the rain comes down in curtains,
 the gray hangs like a drape;
 there's some days, we want comfort,
 while others, just escape.

 the drops like tears upon the pane,
 the sky, in misery --
 the distance, one of galaxies
 between each you, each me --

 the rain comes down regardless,
 clouds restless over head;
 and puddles gather everywhere
 made up of what's

 unsaid