Raindrops.

The rain.
The monster under your bed.
The rain never used to come.
Never used to harm us.
Rain was just another bad dream.
A children's nightmare that went away.
With a hug. A story. A kiss.
You can't predict the arrival of the rain.
Nor can you escape it.
The rain is strong.
Overpowering.
Neverending.
Invinsible.

The rain.
Small droplets on our faces.
They only come occasionally.
Sneaking up on us as quiet as the grave.
The rain makes us cold.
So cold we crave the warmth like never before.
And we finally realise what rain is.
No longer is it unreal.
As soon as you feel the rain you know.
It won't go.
Won't leave.
Won't surrender.

The rain.
Pouring down on us.
It washes away our smiles.
Our hopes, our dreams and our lives
Are repossessed by the rain.
The rain doesn't stop.
It has no ears, so it cannot
hear our calls of pain.
Of anguish.
Of hurt.
Of the everlasting grip
of the rain.


("The rain" is symbolic of depression.)
=)
Comments or any ideas for changes?
Greatly appreciated!

Ok if that brought tears to my eyes just now, I wonder what you felt like writing it. It's perfect just how it is- I advise you not to alter it.