I am so dehydrated I can barely stand
And then comes a cloud the size of a hand.
You think I would be grateful
But instead I am hateful.
It just can’t rain.
I angrily complain.
My worst fear
Is coming near.
The drops fall
And I no longer feel tall.
As I look bitterly at the sky
I am reminded that someone is stronger than I
And that makes me cry.
I want to be the best
Far above the rest,
But I have to say
God did not make me that way.
Without rain the ground becomes dry
And plants slowly die.
But why? I say.
Why does it have to be that way?
God says,
“Some things are too heavy for you to know.
Sometimes you have to let go.”
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