Summer Rain

For me it will not rain this summer,
maybe for you,
but not for me.

When I lay in bed in the morning,
I feel pathetic and I want to shed a tear,
but I do not,
because I fear that you will leave.

The struggle must be real,
to have so much
yet still to feel,
like there is nothing much,
to keep me here.

I put my lips on the glasses edge,
I take a sip of water,
I hope this drop will take care of me,
throghout the heat and fire

When the sun comes,
plants dont grow here,
instead,
they burn.

But when the sky becomes gray again,
they show as they never left,
and all along they had been
on a long wait.