Tones of grey.
 Drops of rain.
 Layers of sentiments.

It finally rains, drop
By drop. Then they
Connect, forming lines of water,
Becoming a veil.

I watch by the window
Thinking of Laughter In The Rain.

“Ooooo, I hear laughter in the rain
Walking hand in hand with the one I love
Ooooo, how I love the rainy days
And the happy way I feel inside”

We laughed in the rain,
Free, rebellious and fearless.
And had little to lose, or gain.

Some years left and there came
Crying In The Rain.

“I’ll never let you see
The way my broken heart is hurting me
I’ve got my pride and I know how to hide
All my sorrow and pain
I’ll do my crying in the rain”

Those were decades ago.
Oh, how we never forget the top hits
And our fragile egos.

Now I don’t laugh or cry in the rain;
Pain, or not, it is not defined by the rain.
These days I run in the sun, my way.
It has made a difference, this hair of grey.

Yet those sentiments are never dead;
Every now and then they pop up in my head.
I need to pour myself a mug of hot tea, alone,
Savouring the many tones of grey.