The Weatherman (Poem)

It's raining outside,

walls are closing in,

here I am watching the weatherman,

hoping some light will break through,

let me out

before I go mad.

Streets empty,

cars all at home,

ignoring the signs

cause I want to feel other than alone.

No need to change the channel,

it's nonsense anyways,

watching the weatherman helps,

cause it keeps the noise away. 

11pm and it's still the same,

just another routine stop

where the channel stays

fixed on the weatherman

as I down another edible

to drown out the pain.

Photo credit: Arnaud Montagard