The drops of rain fell in patterns:
Drip, drop, drip drip drop!
Against closed doors, umbrellas and rain boots-
(Precautions to protect themselves from harmless predators.)
Through windows the outcasts peeked
As they danced to their deaths:
Into boyish laughter, girlish smiles, and candy-coated dinners-
Untarnished love which neither the cold ground, unfamiliar air nor perspiring clouds knew about.
Amix these familial portraits of serenity,
The poor things lost all thrill.
The dance was neglected,
And the final splash seemed an unfair end.
Drops of rain distill incessantly, in an absence of magnificence and charm-
Washed in the gray that has been worm throughout centuries by the forlorn peasants, childless mothers and ghosts of wishes and dreams that suffered trauma.