To Watch Her Weap
Frozen in her soft brown eyes,
that tender touching stare.
Reminds me of the failing skies,
those gentle clouds of ware.
Now as she bows her head to cry,
I see a falling tear.
Like rain cast from the sky,
but its sound I do not hear.
For where this tear falls I cannot reach,
to wipe it from the sky.
Its walls of hurt I cannot breach,
I can only wonder why.
The one before me would shed a tear,
and harbor the pain inside.
Does this beauty have no one dear?
No one in which to confide?
This I wonder as I walk on past,
as every person would.
No better am I than the last,
even though I know I should.