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Raining again?

 

So, where I come from the rain never stops,

Drops on drops,

It props us up like a kind of identity.

 

You’re just like me.

 

When I was small I’d call out to my mum,

‘Look, look out, watch his thumb,

It’s the weather man, he makes it rain,

Look mum, he’s doing it again!

He’s making it rain’.

 

I was only young.

 

But, if you do get caught out

Or the weather's not fine,

My brolly’s huge, 

You can just share mine.

◄ My Manchester

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Comments

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Darren Lea-grime

Fri 5th Mar 2021 08:01

thanks for you kind comment nazia

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Nazia Khan

Wed 3rd Mar 2021 21:16

Beautifully written ??? I love rain and your poem smells like drenched soil. ???

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