People Make Me Cry
I don't know what it is whether sympathy or empathy.
I watch them.
I hear them.
I feel them.
I see a girl who is lost and confused.
She was happy once before it came,
Death.
She didn't know why it took him or why it didn't think about the people around him.
Her dreams left with him, that's all she knows.
I see a teacher who is strong.
She always was, but hope was with her then.
Her mother was to live a month not a week.
Now I see them, and I want to cry.
How can I not?
I pity them.
I admire them.
I hear of a boy, who is to die.
The last good-byes aren't so nice.
He is giving up the fight is what I hear.
I hear of a woman in blame.
Her one year old dead.
Is she to blame, for not taking better care of her child?
I hear painful screeches.
I feel all their sadness.
I feel a girl's grandfather death.
I feel a teacher's mother hollowness.
I feel a boy's decent.
I feel a mother's lost.
I pray for them all night
that peace should come to them.
People make me cry, in all cases, we all loose something special.
