“whats going on?” his voice came from behind. ” its raining.” i answered. ” i can see that. i meant why are you standing by the window staring at it?” he asked wrapping his arms around me. ” its a downpour. im waiting for the lightning.” he rested his chin on my shoulder and whispered into my ear, “you are one odd man.” I turned my head to look at him, “but you love me anyway.” “that i do.” he mumbledbefore planting a kiss to my forehead.
We stayed in the hotel all night and all day, dancing to the downpour that drove us faster and deeper onto the wooden floor with the other dancers who couldn’t stop themselves any more than could the rain.
It was raining like hell. The drops felt like daggers piercing my head and soul. It thundered, as I fell onto the cool concrete. I woke up, dead, or so it seemed. The fuzzy white world spun above my head. My skin burnt, I was made of ash. Had I been struck by lightning? You showed your face, the sight burned more than lightning. I started to cry.
The rain felt heavy against his coat. His eyes were stinging from the constant water dripping into them. He was unable to see the car that approached, nor the person that stepped out. At that moment, lighting flashed across the sky with an immediate rolling of thunder. all of which caused him to dart toward the car and slide in. The person looked around and then slid into the car beside him.
It’s the rain, just falling on me. It’s a drenching experience, it’s no small rain. We’d call it Diluvio. It’s a huge flooding. It’s wet and it’s really intense. I love it.
The rain. It scares me. I hate water. Why am I here? I hate it here. Why do you keep me? The rain it scares me, the water I hate. I am I here, but I hate.
there was a downpour all around him. not of rain, no, but of saddness and shame. it crashed all around him as he stood in the midst of his hopes and dreams. she was gone, and that was the end. as he hung his head in shame, he wonders if another day shall arise.
She cursed as she felt
her hair slick
to her forehead
its strands weighing her down
creating slithering strangleholds
caught in a downpour
powerless to resist
and as she grew heavier
she wondered
how anyone could see this
as cleansing
The rain falls down beside me.
I get scared of the thunder.
the lightning flashes
the squirell crashes
the men die
the people cry
the women always like to tie
i am a loon
save my from doom
i will fail
and not prevail
I hate that thing let me be me.
The tears were warm. Like a rain shower in the summer morning. Like the rain that fell when we first kissed.
The tears were warm. They poured, down, my shirt is soaked now. With the remnants of our early morning laughs. Our naps together and our wrestling moves.
hey told me not to think
to let the words come out
the way a rain cloud might let rain
fall down
the way you might let tears
fall down
the way a slinky can just
trip down
the stairs, like it’s going somewhere
yknow?
but those tears
im serious
i want to know what it feels like to have a rainstorm
inside
come out.
A heavy downpour has caused serious flood in Thailand as I read the news. A men carrying a baby waiting to be help on the roof top of his house. The water level has reached his roof top. It’s a scary scene. My colleagues whom had a travel plan to Thailand have all cancelled their trip to the country.
she walked outside, at the exact second it began to rain. “Not my day. Just..not my day at all”. She muttered to herself. Trudging along the road, she knew more than ever that it must be done. Nothing could redeem her now except for the task she knew she must complete. Opening a small bag, the tiny girl with the wing tattoo opened a small bag and held it to the descending drops. A small creature stretched forth its long twisted body and stretched itself towards the sky, and within seconds it had disappeared into the clouds. The girl slowly walked back home. The rain had turned to tears.
The words came out as a downpour. Before I could stop myself, I was saying things I shouldn’t. Where I had planned on a light drizzle to get the much-needed conversation rolling, instead my mouth opened and out poured cats and dogs.
Wind whips through the trees. Rain slashes as I walk to the car. Elfin trembles in my arms, cold despite being blanket wrapped. These are my last moments with her. She will be put down twenty minutes from now. Kidney failure. I lose my friend. The cold rain is a fitting tribute. It matches my heart.
i sit in the rain kissing my lover, as we stand in the torrential downpour. he loves me, and as the rain comes down and plasters our hair to our heads, the only thing we care about is the kiss we are sharing. and the rain is all we think of as we dance.
The rain falls quickly, and with great force. The downpour never ended. Children ran outside and started dancing in this downpour. It was endless, and nothing short of incredible.
it’s a downpour of thought into my mind, raining into my soul, creating oceans of dreams and hopes and falling falling falling ever so far from the sky, emotions falling in a downpour of sound
Rain. I loved the feel of cool wetness on my skin, how you can’t tell where the raindrops end and the tears begin. I let the water carress my skin as the tears flowed freely. I released everything, every emotion, every thought, every sense, right there in the rain.
Little pellets massaging the head while running through the grass. Rainbows often arch in the sky. It’s not always rain that downpours, sometimes it’s information from a higher source impossible to ignore.
Downpour was his name, and he was ashamed of it. I mean, how could he not be? His parents were deaf, and they didnt know how anything sounded really, so when they said it, it just sounded stupid. To him it sounded stupid, maybe it wouldve been better if he wouldve known what it actually sounded like.
A gentle pitter-patter of glistening rain dashes across my windowpanes. I long for a downpour: something cleansing, revealing, and purifying. Something to reflect my melancholy, maybe justify my distress.
But, once again, nothing. Just the “drip, drip, drip” of the water tinking against the glass, mocking the feeble walls I’ve built around myself. What will it take to bring them down?
November is the season of downpour. at least to me. i remember the downpour as i waited someone i was in love with at a station in November, and car lights sliding through the rain…well that’s a memory from long time ago.
hits the ground
hard
in patterns
like drums
there’s thoughts everywhere
there’s silence everywhere
there’s blood everywhere
someone help me
pick these brains up
Down pour can be refer to someone that have a cup of water and all of a sudden or by mistake he or she just drop it on the floor and make a huge mess all over the floor and also a boy got a jar full of water and his friend was running by him and by mistake the friend hits the water and it spilled down to the boy’s clothes.
The rain comes lightly at first. It’s a funny thing to see the drizzle but not necessarily feeling it. Then the wet sinks through your shoes.You become more and more aware as your vision blurs. You start to comprehend what’s going on and it hurts. First pricking your toes, then heels, ankles, and even head. Next thing you know, it’s a downpour. Life seems to happen that way.
In the downpour of November streams and autumn leaves dank with moss and fog, I held an umbrella out to the young woman standing by the bus stop, dressed in a long red coat and tall red heels. She didn’t turn to look at me or acknowledge my gesture, but she huddled beneath that fragile cover like a spider beneath its dark web, waiting for the sun to come back out.
Michelle looked up at eh the steel colored sky, and suddenly, very suddenly, a terrific downpour began, splashing her face with freezing water. Her senses jerked to life, and sly the memories of the night before came rushing back at her. Hooking up here Wiley, she began running down the slick street, under burning street lamps and the stars, she began her journey
They didn’t know what caused it… it must have been some sort of magic. But one second it was sunny, not a cloud in the sky, and then, suddenly, there was a downpour of glitter. Yes, glitter. It was like a Ke$ha concert, only all over the city. What could be better?
Today, I went to beach to surf; however, there’s a huge wave that downpour on me. All the sudden, my body full of power, feel like I’m a x-man in the movie.
The tape had worked for about four seconds, before the water began to seep through; he tore off another section, and another, rubbing determinedly at the tape as the water bubbled up under it. He concentrated, knowing that with just a little more belief, it would become sticky and cling to the tape, rather than gushing down around his socks.
I know that I am at the end of something.
Something grand.
Something long overdue and something poignant.
I keep thinking about the beginning. And that’s how I know.
And if I keep myself free, I will not be young Werther the way I am now
“whats going on?” his voice came from behind. ” its raining.” i answered. ” i can see that. i meant why are you standing by the window staring at it?” he asked wrapping his arms around me. ” its a downpour. im waiting for the lightning.” he rested his chin on my shoulder and whispered into my ear, “you are one odd man.” I turned my head to look at him, “but you love me anyway.” “that i do.” he mumbledbefore planting a kiss to my forehead.
We stayed in the hotel all night and all day, dancing to the downpour that drove us faster and deeper onto the wooden floor with the other dancers who couldn’t stop themselves any more than could the rain.
It was raining like hell. The drops felt like daggers piercing my head and soul. It thundered, as I fell onto the cool concrete. I woke up, dead, or so it seemed. The fuzzy white world spun above my head. My skin burnt, I was made of ash. Had I been struck by lightning? You showed your face, the sight burned more than lightning. I started to cry.
The rain felt heavy against his coat. His eyes were stinging from the constant water dripping into them. He was unable to see the car that approached, nor the person that stepped out. At that moment, lighting flashed across the sky with an immediate rolling of thunder. all of which caused him to dart toward the car and slide in. The person looked around and then slid into the car beside him.
I WISH THERE WAS A DIFFERENT WORD TO WRITE ABOUT!!!
meow
bark
ruff
ow
cow
mow
plow
kdalschhhhhhb;
Snuff
It’s the rain, just falling on me. It’s a drenching experience, it’s no small rain. We’d call it Diluvio. It’s a huge flooding. It’s wet and it’s really intense. I love it.
The rain. It scares me. I hate water. Why am I here? I hate it here. Why do you keep me? The rain it scares me, the water I hate. I am I here, but I hate.
there was a downpour all around him. not of rain, no, but of saddness and shame. it crashed all around him as he stood in the midst of his hopes and dreams. she was gone, and that was the end. as he hung his head in shame, he wonders if another day shall arise.
She cursed as she felt
her hair slick
to her forehead
its strands weighing her down
creating slithering strangleholds
caught in a downpour
powerless to resist
and as she grew heavier
she wondered
how anyone could see this
as cleansing
The rain falls down beside me.
I get scared of the thunder.
the lightning flashes
the squirell crashes
the men die
the people cry
the women always like to tie
i am a loon
save my from doom
i will fail
and not prevail
I hate that thing let me be me.
It was raining like hell. The drops felt like daggers piercing my head and soul. It thundered, as I fell onto the cool concrete.
The tears were warm. Like a rain shower in the summer morning. Like the rain that fell when we first kissed.
The tears were warm. They poured, down, my shirt is soaked now. With the remnants of our early morning laughs. Our naps together and our wrestling moves.
A downpour of the things he would adore came around the door and across the floor.
hey told me not to think
to let the words come out
the way a rain cloud might let rain
fall down
the way you might let tears
fall down
the way a slinky can just
trip down
the stairs, like it’s going somewhere
yknow?
but those tears
im serious
i want to know what it feels like to have a rainstorm
inside
come out.
A heavy downpour has caused serious flood in Thailand as I read the news. A men carrying a baby waiting to be help on the roof top of his house. The water level has reached his roof top. It’s a scary scene. My colleagues whom had a travel plan to Thailand have all cancelled their trip to the country.
she walked outside, at the exact second it began to rain. “Not my day. Just..not my day at all”. She muttered to herself. Trudging along the road, she knew more than ever that it must be done. Nothing could redeem her now except for the task she knew she must complete. Opening a small bag, the tiny girl with the wing tattoo opened a small bag and held it to the descending drops. A small creature stretched forth its long twisted body and stretched itself towards the sky, and within seconds it had disappeared into the clouds. The girl slowly walked back home. The rain had turned to tears.
The words came out as a downpour. Before I could stop myself, I was saying things I shouldn’t. Where I had planned on a light drizzle to get the much-needed conversation rolling, instead my mouth opened and out poured cats and dogs.
Wind whips through the trees. Rain slashes as I walk to the car. Elfin trembles in my arms, cold despite being blanket wrapped. These are my last moments with her. She will be put down twenty minutes from now. Kidney failure. I lose my friend. The cold rain is a fitting tribute. It matches my heart.
i sit in the rain kissing my lover, as we stand in the torrential downpour. he loves me, and as the rain comes down and plasters our hair to our heads, the only thing we care about is the kiss we are sharing. and the rain is all we think of as we dance.
The rain falls quickly, and with great force. The downpour never ended. Children ran outside and started dancing in this downpour. It was endless, and nothing short of incredible.
it’s a downpour of thought into my mind, raining into my soul, creating oceans of dreams and hopes and falling falling falling ever so far from the sky, emotions falling in a downpour of sound
Rain. I loved the feel of cool wetness on my skin, how you can’t tell where the raindrops end and the tears begin. I let the water carress my skin as the tears flowed freely. I released everything, every emotion, every thought, every sense, right there in the rain.
Little pellets massaging the head while running through the grass. Rainbows often arch in the sky. It’s not always rain that downpours, sometimes it’s information from a higher source impossible to ignore.
Downpour was his name, and he was ashamed of it. I mean, how could he not be? His parents were deaf, and they didnt know how anything sounded really, so when they said it, it just sounded stupid. To him it sounded stupid, maybe it wouldve been better if he wouldve known what it actually sounded like.
the downpour of the rain made me remember he last time i saw him. mom had woke me up and told me dad had died in a car accident
A gentle pitter-patter of glistening rain dashes across my windowpanes. I long for a downpour: something cleansing, revealing, and purifying. Something to reflect my melancholy, maybe justify my distress.
But, once again, nothing. Just the “drip, drip, drip” of the water tinking against the glass, mocking the feeble walls I’ve built around myself. What will it take to bring them down?
November is the season of downpour. at least to me. i remember the downpour as i waited someone i was in love with at a station in November, and car lights sliding through the rain…well that’s a memory from long time ago.
hits the ground
hard
in patterns
like drums
there’s thoughts everywhere
there’s silence everywhere
there’s blood everywhere
someone help me
pick these brains up
Down pour can be refer to someone that have a cup of water and all of a sudden or by mistake he or she just drop it on the floor and make a huge mess all over the floor and also a boy got a jar full of water and his friend was running by him and by mistake the friend hits the water and it spilled down to the boy’s clothes.
The rain comes lightly at first. It’s a funny thing to see the drizzle but not necessarily feeling it. Then the wet sinks through your shoes.You become more and more aware as your vision blurs. You start to comprehend what’s going on and it hurts. First pricking your toes, then heels, ankles, and even head. Next thing you know, it’s a downpour. Life seems to happen that way.
FOOTBALL FOOTBALL FOOTBALL FOOTBALL
FOOTBALL FOOTBALL FOOTBALL FOOTBALL
FOOTBALL FOOTBALL FOOTBALL FOOTBALL
FOOTBALL FOOTBALL FOOTBALL FOOTBALL
In the downpour of November streams and autumn leaves dank with moss and fog, I held an umbrella out to the young woman standing by the bus stop, dressed in a long red coat and tall red heels. She didn’t turn to look at me or acknowledge my gesture, but she huddled beneath that fragile cover like a spider beneath its dark web, waiting for the sun to come back out.
Michelle looked up at eh the steel colored sky, and suddenly, very suddenly, a terrific downpour began, splashing her face with freezing water. Her senses jerked to life, and sly the memories of the night before came rushing back at her. Hooking up here Wiley, she began running down the slick street, under burning street lamps and the stars, she began her journey
i had a dream that it was raining really hard but it was blood raining.. a downpour of blood.. iwe ikla chog.. tayor mele ibe sor irel downpour.
They didn’t know what caused it… it must have been some sort of magic. But one second it was sunny, not a cloud in the sky, and then, suddenly, there was a downpour of glitter. Yes, glitter. It was like a Ke$ha concert, only all over the city. What could be better?
Today, I went to beach to surf; however, there’s a huge wave that downpour on me. All the sudden, my body full of power, feel like I’m a x-man in the movie.
The tape had worked for about four seconds, before the water began to seep through; he tore off another section, and another, rubbing determinedly at the tape as the water bubbled up under it. He concentrated, knowing that with just a little more belief, it would become sticky and cling to the tape, rather than gushing down around his socks.
the rain is so thick and heavy that it could be called a downpour but i dont know if its actually raining alot
It downpours on me
Downpour of pain
Downpour of rain
Downpour of stuff