There's a storm in her eye,
And rain clouds drift
Lazily through the haze of her
Despair, until some shift
In the cruel world around her
Sends her reeling.
Then, plump raindrops trickle
To the floor, blatantly revealing
In their reflection, cruel people
Whose selfishness and false pain
Are her daggers and who prop up
Umbrellas against her soft rain.