Forty-two days have gone by,
As I sit in my room, alone.
I look at the clock and then the door,
At the calendar and then the phone.
Desperately, I yearn in vain.
And outside, it rains.
Shabbily I put on fresh clothes,
Vaguely I remember eating food.
I pace around the house,
Aimlessly, thoughtlessly, and mindlessly I brood.
I do anything to keep myself sane,
And outside, it rains.
My unkept hair stick to my neck,
At least, the house is up-kept by the keep.
She sweeps and scrubs with her head hanging low,wdsr
Pretends she doesn’t see me weep.
The tears roll down, leaving wet stains.
And outside, it still rains.
And Outside, It Rains.