Feel the rain, On your skin, Taste it, smell it, Streak your cheeks. Falling like mysterious messengers, The tears of the man in the sky. Are they tears of sorrow? Tears of joy? It doesn’t choose you in particular. Or anyone. But it reduces us to the same sodden level as the trees, Does it remind you that you aren’t in control? Don’t be afraid of it’s pulse. It’s soft touch will always find you, Don’t cower behind your umbrella, Don’t hide from it, Just let the rain in.

by Abi Clarke, Age 16

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