Monsoon Melancholy

The rains, they come and then they go,

clouds rumbling and roaring their watery woe.
I sit at the threshold of wet and dry,
watching the dark skies as they bawl and they cry.

There is a lot more sinking,
than just the rain into the sand…
… and I wish you were here, ’cause
all I want is, to hold your hand.

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