Unremitting downpours surround me,
Under the glass cabana of the bus stop.
A single, persistent raindrop
Trickles from the forest green, metal arch,
Bouncing upon my left shoulder,
Against the waterproof material of my mediocre raincoat,
Crashing to the floor.
While it has reached its lowest point,
It can only rise from its overpowering plateau.
With the aid of others,
At its lowly level,
It slowly climbs,
Overcoming its cohesion to the blacktop,
Giving it the confident push upwards it required.
The bus greets me under the swift particle haze.
I run in and take my seat, wondering,
What if the physically decrepit man in the corner,
The inebriated woman lying across from me,
Or even myself,
Is a raindrop, and
With the aide of enough of our peers,
As lowly as we may be,
We band together
And have enough force
To overcome the storm?
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