I saw a clear black line
the other day
It was as grim as their pale faces
their blank expressions
reflected the missing person
the one whose story as met its end

I stood there across from their tears
and wondered, to what caliber of sympathy
does my heart ally with theirs

Their shoes were too black to fit
their faces where too apathetic to confront

It was black in all sense of the color
it was grim, even nature felt the emptiness
I stood there, I noticed
that humans and their emotions
are as distinguished
as their features

Sympathy is just a term
coined to soothe to comfort
but never truly felt
for my heart
will
never be like yours
nor
yours like
mine