Someone's

Licensed rain falling upon us all: home, schools, churches and even liquor stores.

More water pours on our skin pores, our tears roar helplessly hoping with our sins they'll rapport.

Damnation reports early at our door fronts, with panache we panic and surrender to our flaws.

Our bones articulates calling us by our first names, under prides we duck refusing our expiring dates.

To articles we relate mentored by anonymous faces, our docks lose their talents and harbour fake traits.

Like minerals unmined under the minds of the earth, during sabbaticals our shadows give birth.

Nurtured by demons yet to be discovered themselves, even when happy chanced our endurances comfortably relax.

In self-pity we practice our privacies in front of masses, the failed mathematics a multiplied division tactic.

Unity a fork lore so individual ambitions reflect signs; flying kites picturing cryers sighing out of spite of the days their sights changed sniping messengers into messiahs.

Afflictions beckons and affections becomes, outnumbered rogue nuns giving birth nonstop.

Stardoms stomped upon by cheques of borrowed sums, then the epiphany you're no longer someone's.