Some people like the rains that come with spring, but all I can do is just stare through the window and look at all the injustice and pain,

Brought by this early spring rain.

Just moments before buzzing bees cavorted in the air excitedly between flowers,

Grass with a palpable shade of green softly bent over to listen to birds singing praises for nature's powers.

But when the rain broke out the bumblebees began throwing themselves against the windows trying to escape the storm of knives,

Making such loud thuds you'd think they were birds and not desperate little bees dodging the drop that would end their lives.

As the pounding on the glass grew fainter, the wind started to blow,

Blowing away the flowers that had just started to grow.

The relentless gusts leave only the prettiest, most resilient petals,

So that in place of the weaker ones only stronger ones will grow when the rain settles.

But would summer seem just as perfect and pretty if the frail ones stayed,

The room for the stronger flowers never made?

How can nature decide so easily who's weak and who's strong,

Who deserves mercy, who's lifted up from the throng?

It's easy to say life is hard and it's just the way of the world, but what else can you say?

People do all they can but in the end the truth is always waiting there: black and white, but never gray.

The truth is so ugly and painful and cold and scary because it kills innocence,

Innocence is seeing dissonance yet believing in perfect harmony and in everything still finding divine beauty;

It's the most powerful thing in the world because for a moment it melts away the truth and lets you envision it's-

All okay, because soon summer will come and it will be beautiful because it doesn't matter how or why,

And the sun will forever shine in an endless, deep blue sky,

All the birds will chirp and the bees will buzz that it's all okay,

But the truth always comes back: black and white, but never gray.