It rained today

P.C. – to the rightful owner

It rained today
and I went a little tipsy.
Sloshed under the influence
of my liquor-coated old diary
when those words had me smiling.

I sat under a little parasol
where the rays of sun faded
just like my senses.
Tiny droplets roared at me
for my teacup-sobriety,
half-dreamt,
non-frightening,
easily-achievable goals.

Splashes of rain scattered all over
hitting me hard with whisky-fied realities
“If your dream ain’t scaring you
it ain’t a ‘dream’ enough”
Written in bold letters
in my boozed up diary.

Where’s the sense for
being in senses at all times.
Your imperfect pipe-dream craziness,
uncontrollable thread of imagination,
a conscience full of ideas,
a craving to build something
is what makes you, you.

It’s better to be drunken
enough in your blazing dreams
than to sail sober in the same waters
sprouting drudgery work
and routine-y results.

Rains drew in the curtains
leaving the reasonable world out
to reach my half-sewed,
legless dreams
wanting to reach
to its zenith.

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