It's storming outside
The rain patters down, beading the glass
Window with drops, Like the tears from
Above descending, blurring the vision
Of those warming themselves at the fire,
Inside. Rubbing their hands together,
Smiling over a bubbling cuppa, Laughter,
Chocolates and roasted chicken.
Outside, she cries with the rain. Tears
Falling freely till its intermingled with
Those droplets that have drenched the
Cotton shirt, whilst the cold washes over.
The cardboard shelter nearly caves but
She musters enough to cast her eyes
Upon the glass window, and the scene inside.
It's storming outside, can't you see?