and all of the sudden it started to downpour. the rain hit hard against my roof. in that moment i wanted to get in my car and drive to him. pull him outside and kiss him in the ran like all those romantic movies. or simply just take his hand. but i was awkward and he was perfect in every sense of the word.
It was a downpour that night, the darkest night of the year. Emilee was shivering; cold, and wet, and in the woods. Her mother and father were no where to be found. She could not see anything, and did not remember the car accident that left her stranded.
it started to downpour out of nowhere. the rain was almost too much to handle. all i wanted was to go find him and kiss him, or atleast grab his hand and dance in the rain. someonething, something that every one in those corny movies do. something romantic. but i was too awkward, and he was perfect in every sense of the way.
Thick and delicious. Bright and gooey. The downpour of gratitude felt like nothing I had known before. The vibration of energy swept through me. Moved to tears. Life, filling with love, joy, and more than I had ever dreamed of.
Rain downpour. It’s calming and peaceful. Makes you happy. Makes you think. Isolates you from the world, as if you’re in your own little bubble. It helps you sleep. Downpour. It’s so nice.
There is a downpour of crap coming from the internet regarding 2012. Where this information is coming from is beyond my understanding. My first instinct is to ignore it, but I can’t.
Everyone thinks of rain when they think of downpour. Why can’t you have a downpour of despair? My mother did. She never left her bed, for a month, for two months, for three months, and then she got up and made a casserole and went back to bed. How can a human lay in bed for three months and more? Without shriveling up and dying?
As the rain fell from the sky, he looked up the the clouds and closed his eyes, letting the rain fall on his face. Pixies surrounded him in a curious flock, swirling around and whispering things to each other in a language she didn’t understand. She stood there, watching him, and it dawned on her that she had no idea who he was. But she didn’t care. She knew deep down inside that she had known him, once.
There was a downpour of emotion after the bombs dropped. People could see them falling to the earth from miles above them, with only a few short moments before they would make contact with the ground and explode. These last few emotional moments of existence were filled with sadness, happiness, curiosity, and love.
Rain fell from the sky, splattering on the ground, hitting the body on the road with dull patters. He stood there, over the body, wondering what he should do. He couldn’t let them take her. She was just a kid–she didn’t know what she’d done! With a sigh of determination, he bent and grabbed the gun, hurriedly wiping it off, the rain washing the initial fingerprints from it. Then he held the handle as he would if he were going to shoot it, and he set it back on the ground by the body.
The downpour of the rain made it barely visible to see. I stared out the window wondering what he was thinking about right now. I was worried beyond belief and I couldn’t stand the thought of him hurt or in pain. I didn’t like it. Shaking my head at the thoughts I hurried down the staircase to go to the kitchen to put my mind to peace. Hopefully baking would distract me enough from the accident.
i think of rain but then i think of being over whelmed with things. like an emotional downpur. maybe because of everything that i am going through right now. i think of it having a negative conotation but then i think that it is kinda comforting. i think about it in two aspects, one is overwhelming and the other is calming if i am indoors.
Terrential downpour, the weatherman predicted, and man was he right. The rain came down in cascades drenching everything in sight. I watched as muddy rivers, that were once streets swirled down my street.
As the clouds approach from behind the mountains and the wind begins to stir, it becomes clear that a downpour is coming our way. Please, anything to break the Arizona heat.
rain and puiddles and wellies, yellow. Blue. sky beach . pebbles sand. feet. hair. floating hair. hair flowing from things. wraped around trees. I like the word downpour. its really visual. i have some seconds left. more seconds. BLUE.
There she sat. And even though she was drenched because of the downpour of rain around her she was beautiful. So I went to her and kissed her. The End.
I feel like this stuff happens only in movies. I mean everyone wants that perfect kiss in the rain. But who ever gets it?
the rain id pouring down down into the gutter as the mouse rides the wave into the pouring down gutter and it’s tail gets trapped in the pouring down rain but alas the pouring down rides yet another mouse into the down pour and happiness fills the gutter downpouring the ride
She looked out of the view port as the rain lashed against it, the oppressive violence of the storm mirroring the mood of the ship. The occasional fork of lightning lit up her small cabin and illuminated the ragged bed she shared with the other men and women in the hold. She bit her lip, praying out to any God that would listen.
‘Please, save us from this.’
—
The news broke the next day under cloudy grey skies heavy with the threat of rain.
‘Did you hear? A slave ship sank last night! Just off the coast!’
‘Oh, heavens! Did anyone live?’
‘Not a one. Poor dears.’
We stood in the downpour, waiting for the bus. I wasn’t sure where we would end up, but I just knew I had to leave. I just knew it. There is no way I could stay in this little town much longer.
And to top it all off, there was a torrential downpour when I was walking home. As the rain started ruining my books and my new boots, I thought, “This would be a lot more fun if I could just let go.”
it rained down on us, like a bucket over our heads. Cold shot through us to our bones and we felt it deep in our guts. The rivulets ran down our spine and soaked our shirts to our backs. Instantly cooling us from the heat of the mid summer day.
The downpour of emotions is weighing heavily on my mind. It stings and burns where they strike like stones, the cold bitter sweet feeling of painful hail. And all I can do is hold on tight and wait for it to dissipate into the slow drizzle of sad raindrops that will never truly wash away the agony of loss.
i wake up to the sound of the train down the road and the malicious beatings of water against my window. it is ferocious and i cannot help but relate to it. i am just like the water beating down, and i’m wanting so much for a door to open to let me in. it’s crazy how lonely the rain must be.
The wind jolts my umbrella from over me, but I adjust and regain my composure. It must be raining sideways. Fat drops of water saturate my cigarette, so I flick it to the curb. I usually have better mornings than this… I usually win instead of losing.
a downpour in the middle of a parking lot where I am sitting in my car wondering if i have anything that can keep my feet warm… always looking through the blobs on my windshield wondering if i should turn on my windshield wipers and scrape them off. it never seems like i get ahead, and just like the raindrops, they always stick around and keep coming back. recycled through the atmosphere to fall down on me again the next time i’m sitting in my car in that parking lot, freezing, and wondering if there’s anything about me that’s good or as wonderful as everyone else.
The downpour of rain fell like a hurricane upon the thatched roof of misshapen tile. Everyone looked up at it in succession, all of wondering how it could possibly hold against the torrent of storm. A drop of thick, cold water splashed against my cheek. I feel it roll across my skin, the pours drinking in the icy liquid.
I stood there, soaking wet due to the downpour of rain that came from above me. Nobody could see it, but tears were flowing down my cheeks and dropping onto the ground below me. Crying in the rain always worked better because nobody could see my true feelings.
the skies opened up into a downpour and everything I was holding inside erupted out of my throat in a scream. why did you have to leave? I know you were in pain but you never asked for my help….or maybe I didn’t recognize your asking…maybe this ache I have because of you doing the unimaginable is all my fault…
one day it was downpouring and my boyfriend was over and i wasn’t feeling well so he layed down with me and watched weird shows on the science channel and just stared out the window and watched the rain fall and we made a bet whether or not it would continue raining or not and he won but didn’t make me pay him a dollar because it wasn’t “official”
The wind blew through him easily. Much too easily considering how heavy set of an individual Franklin was. Making his way swiftly into the bus station, the man drew his collar closer around his double ringed neck and glanced back at the cloudburst currently beating against the station’s glass doors.
The rain outside burned because, yanno, it was acid rain. The children knew they’d never have the opportunity to splash in puddles the way their grandparents did as children, but whatevs because FUCK it’s acid rain and apparently they live in a post-apocalyptic world in which this is a normal environmental occurrence. At any rate, their lives sucked. The end.
This rain tastes like hate, he thought to himself.
Salty, awful, choking, mind-numbing hate. It poured down and down, trickled down his throat, infiltrated his mouth and eyes and infected him with anger.
Maybe. Maybe he was turning it into hate as it hit his skin.
First one drop, then a second, until a whole symphony was falling upon the roads of the busy town. All activities were halted by the downpour of the sky’s tears. Funny how this can resemble a problem in life. It shows itself to you with cloudy forecast, until the first mistake, the first misstep is made. Then a second and a third, as the whole world seems to fall around you, causing the streets to go empty, making life empty. But the same thing can resemble a recovery from a loss, or a gain; one step at a time. Downpour: It’s your choice of what it means to you.
and all of the sudden it started to downpour. the rain hit hard against my roof. in that moment i wanted to get in my car and drive to him. pull him outside and kiss him in the ran like all those romantic movies. or simply just take his hand. but i was awkward and he was perfect in every sense of the word.
the rain, it falls
eating away at my worries
ridding me of them
the rain, it heals
taking away all thoughts
letting me fade into
a new world…
It was a downpour that night, the darkest night of the year. Emilee was shivering; cold, and wet, and in the woods. Her mother and father were no where to be found. She could not see anything, and did not remember the car accident that left her stranded.
it started to downpour out of nowhere. the rain was almost too much to handle. all i wanted was to go find him and kiss him, or atleast grab his hand and dance in the rain. someonething, something that every one in those corny movies do. something romantic. but i was too awkward, and he was perfect in every sense of the way.
Thick and delicious. Bright and gooey. The downpour of gratitude felt like nothing I had known before. The vibration of energy swept through me. Moved to tears. Life, filling with love, joy, and more than I had ever dreamed of.
Rain downpour. It’s calming and peaceful. Makes you happy. Makes you think. Isolates you from the world, as if you’re in your own little bubble. It helps you sleep. Downpour. It’s so nice.
the torrential downpour outside my window often mirrors my mood.
mother nature has impeccable timing.
There is a downpour of crap coming from the internet regarding 2012. Where this information is coming from is beyond my understanding. My first instinct is to ignore it, but I can’t.
i think this is an interesting mixture of french and english and i think this represents a little how i’ve felt during last year for down :)
Everyone thinks of rain when they think of downpour. Why can’t you have a downpour of despair? My mother did. She never left her bed, for a month, for two months, for three months, and then she got up and made a casserole and went back to bed. How can a human lay in bed for three months and more? Without shriveling up and dying?
As the rain fell from the sky, he looked up the the clouds and closed his eyes, letting the rain fall on his face. Pixies surrounded him in a curious flock, swirling around and whispering things to each other in a language she didn’t understand. She stood there, watching him, and it dawned on her that she had no idea who he was. But she didn’t care. She knew deep down inside that she had known him, once.
a downpour of
rain
emotions
is letting it all out and out, but sadly.
a downpour
cannot be of
love,
hope,
safety.
There was a downpour of emotion after the bombs dropped. People could see them falling to the earth from miles above them, with only a few short moments before they would make contact with the ground and explode. These last few emotional moments of existence were filled with sadness, happiness, curiosity, and love.
Rain fell from the sky, splattering on the ground, hitting the body on the road with dull patters. He stood there, over the body, wondering what he should do. He couldn’t let them take her. She was just a kid–she didn’t know what she’d done! With a sigh of determination, he bent and grabbed the gun, hurriedly wiping it off, the rain washing the initial fingerprints from it. Then he held the handle as he would if he were going to shoot it, and he set it back on the ground by the body.
The downpour of the rain made it barely visible to see. I stared out the window wondering what he was thinking about right now. I was worried beyond belief and I couldn’t stand the thought of him hurt or in pain. I didn’t like it. Shaking my head at the thoughts I hurried down the staircase to go to the kitchen to put my mind to peace. Hopefully baking would distract me enough from the accident.
i think of rain but then i think of being over whelmed with things. like an emotional downpur. maybe because of everything that i am going through right now. i think of it having a negative conotation but then i think that it is kinda comforting. i think about it in two aspects, one is overwhelming and the other is calming if i am indoors.
Terrential downpour, the weatherman predicted, and man was he right. The rain came down in cascades drenching everything in sight. I watched as muddy rivers, that were once streets swirled down my street.
As the clouds approach from behind the mountains and the wind begins to stir, it becomes clear that a downpour is coming our way. Please, anything to break the Arizona heat.
rain and puiddles and wellies, yellow. Blue. sky beach . pebbles sand. feet. hair. floating hair. hair flowing from things. wraped around trees. I like the word downpour. its really visual. i have some seconds left. more seconds. BLUE.
There she sat. And even though she was drenched because of the downpour of rain around her she was beautiful. So I went to her and kissed her. The End.
I feel like this stuff happens only in movies. I mean everyone wants that perfect kiss in the rain. But who ever gets it?
the rain id pouring down down into the gutter as the mouse rides the wave into the pouring down gutter and it’s tail gets trapped in the pouring down rain but alas the pouring down rides yet another mouse into the down pour and happiness fills the gutter downpouring the ride
they say when it rains, it pours – so when does it stop pouring? i am under a cloud of lies and misunderstandings and it has been raining for weeks.
Drowning in rain.
She looked out of the view port as the rain lashed against it, the oppressive violence of the storm mirroring the mood of the ship. The occasional fork of lightning lit up her small cabin and illuminated the ragged bed she shared with the other men and women in the hold. She bit her lip, praying out to any God that would listen.
‘Please, save us from this.’
—
The news broke the next day under cloudy grey skies heavy with the threat of rain.
‘Did you hear? A slave ship sank last night! Just off the coast!’
‘Oh, heavens! Did anyone live?’
‘Not a one. Poor dears.’
The heavy down pour beat against the windows of the car, waking the young girl from her slumber.
We stood in the downpour, waiting for the bus. I wasn’t sure where we would end up, but I just knew I had to leave. I just knew it. There is no way I could stay in this little town much longer.
And to top it all off, there was a torrential downpour when I was walking home. As the rain started ruining my books and my new boots, I thought, “This would be a lot more fun if I could just let go.”
it rained down on us, like a bucket over our heads. Cold shot through us to our bones and we felt it deep in our guts. The rivulets ran down our spine and soaked our shirts to our backs. Instantly cooling us from the heat of the mid summer day.
The downpour of emotions is weighing heavily on my mind. It stings and burns where they strike like stones, the cold bitter sweet feeling of painful hail. And all I can do is hold on tight and wait for it to dissipate into the slow drizzle of sad raindrops that will never truly wash away the agony of loss.
i wake up to the sound of the train down the road and the malicious beatings of water against my window. it is ferocious and i cannot help but relate to it. i am just like the water beating down, and i’m wanting so much for a door to open to let me in. it’s crazy how lonely the rain must be.
The wind jolts my umbrella from over me, but I adjust and regain my composure. It must be raining sideways. Fat drops of water saturate my cigarette, so I flick it to the curb. I usually have better mornings than this… I usually win instead of losing.
a downpour in the middle of a parking lot where I am sitting in my car wondering if i have anything that can keep my feet warm… always looking through the blobs on my windshield wondering if i should turn on my windshield wipers and scrape them off. it never seems like i get ahead, and just like the raindrops, they always stick around and keep coming back. recycled through the atmosphere to fall down on me again the next time i’m sitting in my car in that parking lot, freezing, and wondering if there’s anything about me that’s good or as wonderful as everyone else.
The downpour of rain fell like a hurricane upon the thatched roof of misshapen tile. Everyone looked up at it in succession, all of wondering how it could possibly hold against the torrent of storm. A drop of thick, cold water splashed against my cheek. I feel it roll across my skin, the pours drinking in the icy liquid.
I stood there, soaking wet due to the downpour of rain that came from above me. Nobody could see it, but tears were flowing down my cheeks and dropping onto the ground below me. Crying in the rain always worked better because nobody could see my true feelings.
the skies opened up into a downpour and everything I was holding inside erupted out of my throat in a scream. why did you have to leave? I know you were in pain but you never asked for my help….or maybe I didn’t recognize your asking…maybe this ache I have because of you doing the unimaginable is all my fault…
one day it was downpouring and my boyfriend was over and i wasn’t feeling well so he layed down with me and watched weird shows on the science channel and just stared out the window and watched the rain fall and we made a bet whether or not it would continue raining or not and he won but didn’t make me pay him a dollar because it wasn’t “official”
The wind blew through him easily. Much too easily considering how heavy set of an individual Franklin was. Making his way swiftly into the bus station, the man drew his collar closer around his double ringed neck and glanced back at the cloudburst currently beating against the station’s glass doors.
The rain outside burned because, yanno, it was acid rain. The children knew they’d never have the opportunity to splash in puddles the way their grandparents did as children, but whatevs because FUCK it’s acid rain and apparently they live in a post-apocalyptic world in which this is a normal environmental occurrence. At any rate, their lives sucked. The end.
This rain tastes like hate, he thought to himself.
Salty, awful, choking, mind-numbing hate. It poured down and down, trickled down his throat, infiltrated his mouth and eyes and infected him with anger.
Maybe. Maybe he was turning it into hate as it hit his skin.
First one drop, then a second, until a whole symphony was falling upon the roads of the busy town. All activities were halted by the downpour of the sky’s tears. Funny how this can resemble a problem in life. It shows itself to you with cloudy forecast, until the first mistake, the first misstep is made. Then a second and a third, as the whole world seems to fall around you, causing the streets to go empty, making life empty. But the same thing can resemble a recovery from a loss, or a gain; one step at a time. Downpour: It’s your choice of what it means to you.