I don't know if they are any good. Rain, the perfect little tear drop of God that shows he is crying over the way civilization has turned. Rain, it is also the rhythm. The percussionist in the Earths orchestra. Every drop of rain is a tap of a different drum. The pavement, the tree's, the grass, the dirt. They are all drums. They keep the Earth in rhythm. Rain, the droplet that reminds me of mine and her past. Every drop holds a memory. A valued memory that will not be forgotten. As the rain soaks down upon her grave, I hope that she remembers to in the place called heaven. I thought of the first ones at school and the last one at home.