Washed

The sky with dark clouds overcast
Grey light it spreads all across,
For a few days thus they will loom
This is not the grey of the gloom;

There it finds an opening
And there it pours down,
Small droplets wash dirt and grime
To the ground;

Making the mundane look fresh and new
The greens are greener
The roads look cleaner
Everything bright, colourful and gay;

I drift in the rains
And get myself soaked,
These drops will cheer me
Is the hope;

The change everywhere I see
I need to feel it deep within me,
I need a rain of my own…
I need a rain of my own…