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.