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Rated: E · Poetry · Community · #2322501
Perfection does not exist, being human is having a few flaws.
I love the rain,
It makes a mess, more or less to serve the best.
Some fear it, some adore it, some depend on it,
It's not perfect, it falls and fails lots of times,
Well it's not all violent, sometimes it's calm,
Even with it's nature, it keeps alive.

I love the rain.
It's a kind of peace on the roof,
Keeps you calm in your room,
The pane it drips on makes it cool,
For instance when you plant, it makes it bloom.

I love the rain .
It gives that pressure of a three year old,
And that calm roar of a happy lion.
So far, the night was a bore,
I think now I might sore.
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