is he crying, choking on the words of sorrow, lost in reverie
do they run down his cheek as he stares at the storm, unseeing
the loss, trapped in himself, wishing it could all be different
no, it is the reflection of the rain on the glass on his face it seems
nothing more than a projection of the world, an after image is all
but let us leave him alone for a moment, not to compose himself
wondering what composes itself in his mind, what words he hears
we may never know, this moment of heartache, what is seen
as the droplets roll down his reflection, leaving trails on glass
Mike's Manic Word Depot 
Wow. This is really good. Interestingly, I was thinking something similar yesterday as the rain poured in torrents. And the rain on the windowpane brought very similar images and thought to my own mind. So thank you for writing it out. That felt… good, to read.
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