People watch as water pours from the sky,
cursing at the inconvenience it causes,
as if everything revolves around them.
Their problems are the center of the universe.
Nothing is their fault.
They hurl insults at the clouds
and yet, they never stop to consider,
how must the sky feel?
It covers the earth like a blanket,
shielding us
and watching over us
and it sees all,
and what if the downpour is our fault?
What if the sky is weeping in frustration
over human pettiness and stupidity,
over our arrogance an selfishness,
and what if it all goes to be too much
and all of our flaws overtake it
and all it can do is weep,
weep in fear of what we've become?
And off we go,
blaming the sky for our irresponsibility,
dancing in puddles of its sorrow,
never realizing
that maybe it's our fault.
Maybe its our fault
that the sky turns grey
and droplets rain down on us,
flooding the world with its tears,
and maybe that's why we feel gloomy when it rains.
We sense the skies sorrow
and maybe some of us feel guilty,
but many do not.
Many don't even know
and maybe that's why we're so selfish.
We do not know how it makes others feel,
how it makes the sky feel,
and how maybe it's our fault that the skies cry.
