Rainfall - An Original Poem

When I dive into the depths of myself to tell my life story,
and clear away the cobwebs and denial with a dose of objectivity.
I see the path to success and happiness and progress as wide as the ocean.
But the minefield and barbed-wire that I lay down conspires to constrict my motion.
My backpack weighs me down full of my dreams and ideas.
I’m bursting at the seams to share them with you the next time that I see ya.
Searching for that glimmer of encouragement and affirmation.
When you keep your dreams inside your own head it’s just mental masturbation.
Oh I know that rejection can sting like a thousand angry hornets.
I’d rather die of anaphylaxis than to never have gone for it.
When I go I’m gonna go still reaching out for somethin’.
Better that than curled up in my bed knowing that the end is coming.
Now I listen to the rain falling.

The simple fact of the matter is,
the lightly falling rain pitter-patter is,
hitting me like the swinging hammer did.
The blood running down my face is not glamorous.
It’s somewhat hideous.

I’ve stumbled on the side of 12 misty mountains just like Dylan said.
Except my mountains were molehills, that’s what I do inside my head.
There’s not a weight on my shoulders that I haven’t put there myself.
Gravity alone isn’t responsible for the fact that I’m chained to the ground.
You see my story has a beginning and an end but I’ve torn out the pages in between.
I don’t know yet, will it be a fairy tale or the worst horror movie you’ve ever seen?
I don’t want to be on my death bed, clutching a pen in my feeble hand.
Still trying to find that moment of genius that immortality demands.
And if my words sound like an ode to misanthropic misery,
Well maybe you have a point, I’m tired of bullshit positivity.
You’re a rockstar! You can be anything you want to be.
But most of us don’t want to put in the work, and that includes me.
Now the rain is pounding me.

The simple fact of the matter is,
the lightly falling rain patter-patter is,
hitting me like the swinging hammer did.
The blood running down my face is not glamorous.
It’s somewhat hideous.

Believe me when I tell you, I know that this is all self-indulgent
You couldn’t beat me any worse than I beat myself with my own judgment
I spend a lot of time trying to pick myself up out of the dirt.
Why wait for someone to criticize when I can make it sound a whole lot worse?
One day I’ll write a piece about my eventual victory.
About how I wrote something that will go down in history.
Someday someone will say man, you’ve got your shit together.
I’ll smile at them and say yes my friend, but it took me forever.
I’ll raise my glass of whiskey and make a toast to better late than never.
The hammer that was beating me to death now hits like a feather
If you’re standing where I was trying desperately to find your way,
There’s no better time to take those first steps than right here, right now, today.
Make that rain go away

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I am Scott. I love writing poetry and song lyrics and one day I hope to turn my lyrics into music. Please upvote and follow. I always follow back. :)

Thanks to Pixabay for the images.