A Very Bad Poem That I Wrote

again, the title ^^ says it all.

(and p.s. this poem has no title)

I walk outside in the rain

Expecting cold downpour.

What I expect is my experience,

Drenched.

My face lifts up

Watching the droplets pummel to the ground.

Standing stock-still,

Ignoring calls of my name.

Who enjoys this cold?

Why do people praise this feeling?

I cannot appreciate the chill

As it settles in my face, in my bones.

I will be lonely this winter

Though I am warmer than most.

In my room, hiding

Waiting for the chill to lift.

Summer is long in coming

As I stand outside.

Waiting to be drenched in sunshine

Instead of sadness.