Rain sounds relaxing
until the thunder booms
the sound of snoring peacefully
from the other room
until a slam, a loud bla-blam,
and then it’s just doom.
Dad falls slot, he’s gotten old,
Mom can’t quite lift him on her own…
But while it rains, there’s peace found,
and when the thunder booms,
we know he’s on the ground.
I won’t fall when I get old, unless it’s in a pit.
There’ll be no bitching. no whining fits.
Just snoring till times runs dry,
I will not fall until I’ve died.
Seranish 