The Juxtaposition

The droplets drop like bullets
My anatomy being the target in sight.
Disrespecting the dominant rays
Of the bright sun,
They dig holes in my skin,
it feels like art.

A man with no sense of time,
Might confuse this sky for night,
But on the other hand it’s so bright,
Unless he turns around,
And the sun he’d face,
He won’t notice, the declining day.

For me these hues,
And this attack of nature,
Perplex my mind.
I now have no sense,
Of false or right.

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