Rainy thougts

Rains all day, wether is sick and sticky,
somebody wants to occupy a person's  name,
Finding a warm place inside it's fame.
Throwing the owner out, from her own flesh,
So they may somehow, attract those,
Who would come across replicas, by mistake.
In search of an original owner.
How dose it feel?
How often do we ask ourselves?
Should creative people care about it?
 Did it happened to me?
Or maybe it already has happen to you?
Rainy days, the streets are shiny
                               smells fresh.
How have you been?
          How is your baby?
Rocking the crib, credal of the earth.
Who is going to occupie new growing space?
The little slice of pink forming flesh.
They want to feel like you?
They want to look like you?
They what to be like you? 
They want to be like me?
They want to feel like me?
Without even knowing who you really are,
Without even understanding who I really am?
Rain all day, is it focusima?
Crying from the silky sky on the farcio  of humanity.

Thais poem is dedicated to B.D