I am a raindrop.
And I’m looking for place to plop.
I’m falling quickly and cannot stop.
I don’t know where I’d like to be,
But I definitely don’t want to land in the sea.
You see, if I were to land in the sea,
It would be so anti-climactic for me;
I would lose my personal identity;
Even I would no longer recognize me.
No, I must find some place solid instead.
Perhaps on a daisy in a flower bed,
Or a plant so parched it’s almost dead,
Or the page of a book that’s being read.
I must decide as fast as I can;
I’m falling quickly toward some folks on the sand.
So many are out there just getting a tan.
Hello, there, little bald-headed man.
His head sure was tempting, but then a breeze blew,
And drove me off course; what am I to do?
Oh, I see it! I see it! My target’s in view!
Get ready; get ready; I’m landing on you!