Some days I wake up,
and think of all the men before me,
and the fools they were to ever let you
slip through their fingers.
They were such damn fools you know?
They were the type of people to watch the rain,
through their windows,
and say, Don’t you just love the rain?
I, on the other hand, was the only one
to watch it pour outside, take my shoes off,
and anxiously, and bravely,
go dance madly in you.
– Christopher Poindexter