Rain drops drumming on the roof.
Do they soothe or do they torment?
Relentless unanswered questions:
Safety or risk, bravery or fear,
Overwhelm, abandonment,
Blame or shame, love or hate?
– Who am I?

A curse of adaptation, or did I arrive like this?
A missing link, an empty gap, a lost chord.
Wounded, numb and worn away
By the drip drip of water on stone
Till there is only empty grief;
Soft as the rain, hard as a rock.
Who am I?

Amorphous, pervading, the watercourse way
Powerfully sucks me down with it
Self pity turns to hopelessness
For what is irretrievably lost,
While the drumming on the roof asks
For acceptance and surrender.
Who am I?