The rain... it just won't stop.

It floods my world, taking the cities underneath the unshed tears.

It constantly pelts us.

Soaks us to the bone.

The sorrowful sky.

Do you miss us?

Yearn for what it once was?

The past?

When everything is molded to your desires?

Never should you hold it in.

Yet you do.

Can you hear me?

We call to you.

That gnawing feeling creeping to you at night?

The forgotten faces?

The remembered voices?

The familiarity of the place you once frequent?

That is us.

Please do remember.

I really hate the rain.

Please remember.

I'm a poet.

What can I say?

(100 words exactly. I counted.)