pip

The rain is pouring down
and there is no point in crying.
The earth is shaking
and there is no point in trembling.
The thunder is roaring
and there is no point in screaming.
There is no escape
and there is no point in leaving.

Like a dog in front of a house,
with its fur wet from melting snowflakes,
sensing heat and laughter
pouring out from the closed door's slits.

Like a balloon at the other end of a rope,
that is bent around a child's hand,
whose hair reflects the light of the autumn day.
Ready to fly but lost ever after.

challenge the gargoyles in spitting,
make a move each once in a while,
challenge the redlights in switching,
make a face that is a surprise.

There is no point
and there is no point in believing.