A City Called Rain

Dystopian?

A City Called Rain 

 

It comes in waves, the viscous red guilt, 

Rolling down our coldly cutting cobbles, 

In the city called Rain, that’s all we know, 

 

The hour inside when they pour it all out, 

Guilt free minutes where they expend their losses, 

The kids scared straight, it will become the norm for them soon, 

Because in our city called rain that’s all they’ll know, 

 

The rain brings relief, 

Washing the dirt down, 

Down drain and ditch and drum, 

The streets laundered, clean once more, 

Well, until tomorrow, 

 

With no one to apply pressure to this open wound, 

Festering with the oppressing strings of guilt that our lifestyle brings, 

Mocking the authoritarian crow that keep a close eye round here, 

12 hours till the floodgates open once more; and maybe this time,  

It will be that last.