Rain

By Marisol Aguilar

Upon a hill I sit,

With my pail that quenches many,

I wait for the rain,

When it pours,

I open my mouth,

Filling it until satisfied,

When the sky is clear, 

It's a beautiful sight,

But I curse at the world,

Too many unsatisfied,

Stick and stones with words of poison,

Wash the mouth of ungrateful,

As I wait for the storms of many,

To silence demands,

The skies forever clear,

With a bright sun and cheerful birds,

I sit up on this hill,

Shackled with greed of many,

As I wish for rain,

So home I finally go

With a smile.

By Marisol Aguilar