I wait until it rains so my tears can fall freely amongst the tears that fall for the wicked. My tears, camouflaged by the falling pain that are for those who choose to be in the world. I hide my tears from those who may want to view them as a weakness, for I am a Black man. As others run for shelter from the falling pain, I stand alone outside awaiting its arrival, for my pain is rising as the day continues to whip me.
My tears have been my food day and night, while people say to me all day long, “Where is your God?”