wierd. i didnt mean to be poetic

[w00t4me]

It's weird how memories all of a sudden come to you.
like how now i could want noting more
than to sit on my grandfathers backporch
and watch a thunderstorm come in
over the cotton fields

with the smell of dirt kicked up from the rains
and the lightning silhouetting the trees
with each sound of thunder
sending bumps down my arms

i was 8 months old when he died
and i couldn't of been more than 4
when we sold the house
that looked over the fields of belle-mina

yet that is all that i want
to be back there
in that old dilapidated place
and to hear the raindrops hit every leaf