They Don’t Always Pick You Up
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Poem:		45314
i fold my arms and hug them tight i hunch my shoulders crease my face i walk on quickly holding tightly to myself some cars fly past they splash me from puddles nearby could it rain any more? could i get any wetter? i laugh at it all and look wide around wiping rain from my eyebrows my forehead my nose i’m walking so quickly i’ve now got quite hot i’m sweating i loosen my collar i unhunch my shoulders while slowing my pace the excitement and passion of the rain is over all that remains is my cold wet feet.
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