Just something on my mind, a little faster.
Moving forward, speeding bullets, skies, clouds plump with their moisture.
About to fall, to hail, to pummel the people down below.
Thinking of the weather forecast.
Rain, hail, snow flurries, frost on the windshields of cars, precipitation no matter what.
I ponder of the weather, the grayest of gray days.
My head is so full of thoughts that turn me.
I believe in the weather forecast although some may not.
Knowing what will come from what great powers decide.
I consider the worst, hope for the best, accept whatever it is.
We all are weathermen.
Nature brings us our days.
I look up and notably recognize the above.
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