The sharp needles of rain,
strike at me with fury,
i see the droplets of water
dripping of the bridge of my nose and
i wonder if there's more to this
uncalled for lashing,
soaking anxiety,
the undying feeling of wanting more,
the sinking realization that maybe
just maybe my time is running out
before the world rushes past me
me, myself and i
invisible, and cold in a big dark hole
a spiraling, whirling hole called
L.I.F.E
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