I'm just a girl from the desert, looking for some comfortable rain boots.

I hate being forced under this umbrella of ambiguity

But I'd rather be kept dry from the sheets of pouring cold truth.

I'd like to step out from this umbrella shielding me

But I haven't any rain boots - I'm from LA.

I have a few other friends who venture out under the rain clouds

And they face the rain without any umbrellas or boots.

"Why can't I grin and bare it?" I ask myself aloud,

and I look down and respond, "Ah, because I'm still in my flops.

"I could catch a cold.

"I could stub a toe

and ruin my fresh coat of black nailpolish."

I envy those people who find the will to run about in that pouring rain.

They learn so much from each drop, drenching them - body and mind.

I've grown up enough to know that type of precipitation hurts again and again,

So I'll just sit under this umbrella until I find a nice pair of rain boots.

 

I'm still trying to find a place that sells that comfy kind of pair.