Hearing the rain reminds me of nights stayed in,
There was always something soothing about the wind;

The house shaking with every blowing gale,
The lights would blink, the lights would fail;

An extra blanket may be needed, it's bound to get cold,
Holding the covers tight, the heat I must hold;

The winds and rain violently crashing against the glass,
Each and every gust so much different than the last;

Whipping at the window no pattern to the mist,
Sometimes the sounds would allow me to drift;

I lie in bed staring at the ceiling,
The storm outside sometimes defines how I'm feeling;

As the rain pours down I get lost in my thoughts,
I recall the memories I had almost forgot;

Nowhere to be and nowhere to go,
Whistling of the wind as it continues to blow;

Tonight I’ll curl up to the howling pitter patters,
For now at least nothing else matters.