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You know, I kind of like the smell.

When it rains, it pours.
And oh boy; did it pour.
It drenched my sweatshirt,
my converse...
that storm soaked my God-damned soul.

But walking away after the thunder and lightning passed,
back turned to those dark clouds,
I thought to myself;

You know, I kind of like the smell.
The smell of the world after it rains...

Author notes

The image is not my own. I saved the file from a Google search. The original copyright is unknown.

Give me some constructive critisism.

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Comments

  • heylookaneuphemism
    September 8

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    Great title!!! I like the direct raw appeal of this.

    "that storm soaked my God-damnd soul." is fresh and alive writing.

    I'd love to see the last line juicd up a bit, as it leans toward a more common image. Everything before that is outstanding!!


  • individuality gold member
    September 8

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    a good poem, ah yes, the rain, it refeshes everything, splash about and get soaked to the skin, then dance like no one is watching at all, to feel free in the world.