We can bead these seashells together,
Hoping this monofilament is enough of a tether,
To keep them from shattering all over the sky,
These clouds in the ocean form waves in my eye,
Because rain does not trouble the drowning man,
A cut on the foot has never bothered the hand,
Storming to the east no longer bothers the west,
Losing's not a problem to those who are best.
And when we lose ourselves in the bleeding sun,
No one will notice when we duck out tails and run,
Because our shadows are the only thing darker then us,
Every rose has a thorn, every nail has it's rust,
Every mannequin has plastic, every mold has it's bust,
Because rain does not trouble the drowning man,
A cut on the foot has never bothered the hand,
Storming to the east no longer bothers the west,
Losing's not a problem to those who are best.
Rain doesn't trouble me,
My irritations are no more,
Then this ninty-nine cent dinner,
Then your two-dollar whore.
Because rain does not trouble the drowning man,
A cut on the foot has never bothered the hand,
Storming to the east no longer bothers the west,
Losing's not a problem to those who are best.
Rain Does Not Trouble The Drowning Man
Published by Family Friend Poems November 2008 with permission of the Author.
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