Times Like These

i don't understand
how something that is so destructive
can also be so crucial to survival
i am not sure if contradictions
are allowed to be a part of my life
but if they are then maybe one day
all of this could make even a little bit of sense

i watch the rain fall down
outside my tired window
and i feel tired too
it's grey and dreary out there
colorless all around
and i wish i knew where the paintbrush was kept
because it just occurred to me that the world
might be alot better if i colored it

but that thought passes too
and besides, i know i probably wouldn't have
actually done it
it was just one of those moments where
i thought it might look very nice
just one of those times where something
so simple became a little more profound
but it left just as quickly as it came
that's all

i wonder if the rain ever wishes
it wasn't stuck in a world of grey
and instead that it was welcomed out
when the shades are out playing
the rain is very beautiful really
i wonder though, does it ever mind
knowing that the sky is crying everytime
it is allowed to be in this world
that it is only the sky's tears