The hope I thought

I knew would always leave me

With the promise of

Okay.
Maybe.
Later.
Somehow.

The hope I thought

I knew tasted foul.

It tasted of tornado words in

A gray car on a gray dripping

Day. It tasted of nails dug into

Sweaty palms. It tasted

Of wasting my time staring out the

Window, staring at raindrops

Crashing into the concrete ground

And gliding away into the drain.

Slowly, I began to think I was one of

Those raindrops, crashing and falling

Into a drain.

Crash and fall.
Crash and fall.

It became music to my empty ears.

But hope never fails

To impress me.

Because it doesn't say

Okay.
Maybe.
Later.
Somehow.

It says
Yes.

Even after the harshest rain,
There is always the rainbow.