overcast...

sometimes it rains too hard,
and more than leaves are battered and bruised;
porous absorptions overflow,
and the wrong cup runneth over.
visual depths cluttered,
audio receptors bombarded,
bellies stuffed--force fed,
and our search for release becomes an adhesive,
a glue to stick fast to whatever temporarily relieves;
a group dynamic demographically focused
for maximum participation,
and the healing becomes the addiction,
and the cycle continues until the cycle becomes the standard,
and it is worshipped,
unfaltering, unwavering, and unquestionable,
until something breaks like that collective psyche,
and a new standard is set,
and maybe downpours will then turn to drizzle.