By Kyle Brooks 
As the rain falls,
I look through the window
Onto the weathering earth.
I remember the times
That only few can recall.

As I rest my hands on the pane,
I think of many things.
Some worthwhile,
And some
Too hard to forget.

As the drops of liquid
Splatter against the trees,
I begin to fall.
Fall into that empty space below
Where all the things are the same.
And no one is better than anyone else.
And as the clouds drift away,
The birds begin to sing.
And the grass is green again.
I wake up,
Realizing that life
Isn't so bad.