What a perfect day to go out
While the sky is no longer filled with drought
What a day of famine in my brain
As I watch and listen to the pouring rain
The canine whines to be free of captivity
And the other one continues to run from me
Just settling in this domestic-style prison
Though it is not particularly my decision
Nothing to do but vent about boredom
As my mind in time becomes more solemn
What a perfect day of depression to splendidly state
The significant day that my loved ones will hate
