Empathy.

Though a master weaver , he spun a veil so thin , it did not mask the pain within......

Pitter patter went the drops , against the window pane.
I looked on with unseeing eyes , glazed with the pain.

But the show was about to start of Nature’s glorious fury.
The drops, incessant now, seemed in such a tearing hurry.

Nebulous memories, clouded my eyes , like the darkened skies above
Blinding lightning jabbed my heart with flashes of unrequited love.

It turned into a steady downpour, there was not a spot that was dry.
My tremulous heart opened it floodgates and then it had a copious cry.

So racked was I with sorrow and with pain
That I even forgot to look out again .

I didn’t feel the loving warmth. I didn’t see the Sun.
I didn’t see the pot of gold at the spot the rainbow’d begun .