Untitled

Back here, again,
With my own little
Personal black cloud,
Hovering over my head.
Torrential rain,
Pours down my face,
Covering my eyes,
Making the light
The sun,
The beauty
Blurred at best,
Invisible to me at worst.

The songbirds are singing
I hear ravens' caws,
The light breeze,
Supposed to cool
Chills me to the bone.
Nothing is right here,
Because nothing
Is ever as stunning
As I imagine it to be.

There's always a dark side,
Always a negative,
Always something
That someone like me
Could hate.

I am going back to bed.
Closing the curtains,  
Making it black,
Shutting out the birds
And the sun,
And the relieving cool breeze,
Because it's not right today.
I'm not right today.