I cry for strangers when they loose their family
I cry when I see then hurting
I wish I could comfort them
I wish I could share their pain
If only it would make it a little better
But time passes and I forget
I forget I cried
I forget feeling helpless
The feeling of giving comfort is no more
Then does my tears count?
Were they really real?
Or was it just the pain of the moment?
The dead have died
Lost and comfortable moving on
The living still miss them
But so long after, it does not matter to me
Does my tears still count?
They were whispering. "Do you hear it?" "What am I listening to?" Smelling the air, "I love the smell of the earth. Its going to rain" "You think?" "Listen." "What?!" "The wind." Points towards the shrub. "The leaves." "What?!" "They are happy. They are eager. You can hear their impatience." A sudden burst of rain, a surprised laughter and a shriek. "You yell like a girl." "Well. We are getting wet." "So?" "Lets go." "Lets stay." A deep sigh and an affirmative smile to a pleading one. "Achoo."
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