I look to the sky
and wait
a moment of silence
in anticipation of its touch
I open my mouth
as it begins to descend from the heavens
drifting gently to concrete
but it tastes bad
body sweat from clouds on a bad diet
no one ever waits for raindrops here
or gazes nervously
in anticipation
even the thirsty weeds
seem to shy away in disgust
and in weak whispers
tell me it's my fault
but I stare up to the sky
and hold out my tongue
in hopes that a drop
might taste good for once
Christian Cheng is a junior who attends high school in New York City. He is particularly keen on studying insects and reading and writing poetry.
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