Precipitation

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I have been asked to write a poem for you,
Of precipitation (that’s about rain) it’s true.
You know, it’s that stuff that can ruin your day,
And cause you not to be able to go out and play.

“Rain is pointless!” you may yell.
I bet you would love to just wave farewell,
And never have to see any rain again, am I right?
But a land without rain would cause such a fright.

Fine get up to leave, I don’t care,
No wait; sit back down, in that chair over there.
Maybe you should know what would happen without rain,
Wait just a minute and let me educate that brain.

At first you might think nothing about it at all,
No problem would arise without rain in the fall.
And then throughout winter? Well, it’s cold anyway.
But by the end of next summer, it’s no holiday.

The rivers and lakes are all dry to the bone.
There’s nothing left but dirt and maybe a stone.
One day you’ll get thirsty and go to the sink,
And you’ll be surprised to find nothing to drink.

No water for livestock or plants that you eat,
You’ll wind up eating the shoes off your feet.
And finally do you know what will happen, my friend?
Well, let’s just say you’ll be at your end.

So think of that now next time you curse the rain.
Just because in the house is where you had to remain.
And now you can leave, my story is done.
Go ahead, you can leave, go have some fun.





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