This was a poem I made when I was ten. It's old.

I don't know how it happened
But it happened friday night,
As I sat beside my window
And began crying with the sky.

Its tears were big and droopy,
It's yell was like a boom,
It gave the ground a fist
To show his anger fumes.

We were both upset
We've had a bad day
But maybe a poem
Will wipe the sorrow away.

After a while
The sky got calm,
And that was a sign,
That I should move on.