The rain man, they call me
Along
crowded havens I tread
No place to
rest, or to humble,
To
nothing I've felt, belonged
Always
longing to be forgone
And when
it rains, I venture,
Amidst
the chaste and impaired,
Their mourning
and pain
Under
their dark faces, they hide
They look
at me and they say,
Hail him,
the rain man,
“That
person who can read our sorrows and pain,
When
lighting strikes in the dark, “
I smile
and I say,
“I’m only
here, to drown my tears in the rain”
Rags
