they gathered in droves,
the majority dressed in white
stripping away the individual,
inadvertently making each person’s face
more prominent, more pronounced.
they were all angry, they all had enough
and most of them wore white.
they spoke amongst each other
a hushed drone that reverberated,
though some brought their megaphones
and chanted and screamed,
raising their fists and punched the heavens,
hoping stars would fall,
hoping clouds would bruise.
but it wasn’t what was uttered
that was the loudest voice;
the shout took the form
of thousands of people;
the sight of it was thunderous
mountains crumble not from one drop
but from the constant fall of rain.
What is rain?
It is thousands, millions of rain drops
falling and crashing unto the mountainside
stripping it away of everything
that keeps it solid and together.
Even mountains crumble,
scattered by the wind as dust.
Let ir rain.
Let it rain drops of white,
one by one by one,
until the mountain stands no more,