A bucket full of water is capable
Of remembering being rain
A gathered will waits in the water
To be poured out over the heads
Of heroes and failures alike
A bucket full of water is capable
Of projecting itself into the air
Hoisted on tiny hands and feet
Until it reaches the right
Cerulean and blackest clouds
To settle down in once again
But the rain is only capable of falling
In peace or in revenge
While the bucket catches it all to the brim
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