Each wet patter is a heartbeat.

Ba-bump.

Ba-bump.

Ba-bump.

Fainter and fainter

The rain is harsh

And it rockets from dark skies

And it bangs against the windows,

And it electrifies the terrified neighbourhood

Little spider legs on steel pipe,

And their webs wound tighter and tighter

As the rain soaks the spindles

And presses it to tears

They fight and fight

To force their ragged home together

Even while buildings are crushed

And children starve,

The ones the size of a dime

Fight their own civil wars

Might one day the rain be merciful

And the wind be gentle,

So that it lifts their legs for them

And mend the silver bones

So while each patter is my heartbeat

Crushed and racing as it sets my definite end

The patter is their lifeline

Their enemy, the one that sees them crushed

And they die, and they fall

And little grey bodies lay limp on porches and weeds

While the ones who survive

Live savage another day