Poetry is just so emo." he said. "Oh, the pain. The pain. It always rains. In my soul.

... only darkened trails of rain could paint your face upon a pane...

...in my dream the shadings of your soul are the dark tincture of rain...

The rain to the wind said,
You push and I'll pelt.'
They so smote the garden bed
That the flowers actually knelt,
And lay lodged--though not dead.
I know how the flowers felt.

So dawn goes down today... Nothing gold can stay.

-- Robert Frost

..if people were rain, I was drizzle and she was a
hurricane.