Rain Lashed by the Wind

Walking along rain-lashed by the wind.

No need telling me that she’s gone again.

I stand like a saint, stoic to my soul.

Not like an angel getting ready to fall.

I’m going to stand if I must stand alone.

I’m not going to miss her because she’s gone.

She’s like the cloud lashed by the wind.

When she feels sunny she’ll float back again.

She always drifts home when not feeling blue,

Sticking around until more rainfall is due.

But I’m standing strong much like a tree.

She’s not going to worry sturdy oak me.

But rooted alone, lashed by the wind,

Keeps reminding she’s turned to storm again.