Raindrops

Raindrops are falling on my head,

But I don’t feel like singing.

Leaves are blooming but the only thing I see blooming

Is blood on my sleeve like the reddest rose.

Ode to the rain,

Reminding me that

I’m not the only one crying out in pain.

Ode to the spring flowers, pushing me out of my stem while reminding me that I

Must stick to my roots to survive.

Ode to the green, the four leaf clover,

Giving me a glimmer of hope that my luck will improve.

Most of all, ode to nice(er) weather

That leaves the stark white of winter behind.