The Rain Comes

The rain comes. Washing, cleansing, purifying. The dirt, mud, and grime trickles away. Refreshing rain that soaks to your skin, drips from your hair, and beads on the glass. It’s a fresh start. The grass will grow green again and the people will look with fresh eyes. But not you. You repel the rain like a sealed cement sidewalk. It puddles up, washing away the muck on the surface. But you’ve sealed your heart and won’t let the waters rinse you clean.

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