Bleak, despondent puddles I walk past
Wondering, why so crestfallen?
Do you not have lives to live for?
Things to do?
There is no time to be so sullen!
The puddles before me are puddles no longer,
Bursting into sprinkling droplets;
The ripples, too much!
What was once grey, now so vibrant and lush!
Is it pleasure? Vexation? Tell me! I must know!
Abruptly surprising, only to die down and hush.
