Even though it's asphalt,
Commuters look at me emotionless,
As if it was my fault.
The water's seeking the easiest route,
Just like the rest of us,
Drawn natur'lly to the core of the earth,
Our desire to reach great heights spurious,
We're only seeking release from this earth,
T'arrive at a new low,
The rain has tried that a million times,
To be sucked back below,
What's wrong with that,
To return to one's core?
It's the simplest form of all that there is,
Yet, each and ev'ry one of us wants more.