Poems Futuristic, Romantic, and Painful🧨💔

THE SKY & I CRY

The sky keeps crying.
Dry inside, I keep crying
So nonstop, I’m also drying
With the salt of my tears
First, before dying of thirst
From drinking ocean water.

I’m Fire’s daughter, and Father
Wasn’t pleased to see me spurned,
Twisted, overturned, and diseased,
Pleading with Drought to come out.
But Drought isn’t a spout, or so
It shouts each time I let rain out.

How long was my hurricane season,
And what’s the source of its reason?
I can’t say WHY, all I can say is its
Tenure is sure and has endured for
Three years; the LAST ones without
A shred of sun. How was it done?
It wasn’t even partially fun!

I experienced a dearth of worth, so
Doom and gloom took over the earth
To be my roomies. I became SO gloomy,
I leaked until I achieved a record rate
Of rainfall, a fact I can’t mitigate.
I’m now sorry to prognosticate rain is
Pain and its stains are my downfall.

When I cry out a downpour,
I breathe in the grim and poor
And pour down even more.
I close a door to stay indoors, only
To start a flood of nothing good
Coming any way anymore.

I’m also vain, so I have to complain
About my swollen and salty face:
I need libations of hydration to erase
The throbs of pain pelting my brain.

These are my “Monsoon Rains,”
And if they don’t abate soon, best
Make more room on Noah’s Ark, cause
No one but Noah knows that I’m a
Scaredy Cat who hides in the dark.