It is rainy when you do not carry an umbrella.
It is scary when the still is torn apart by thunder.
It is noisy when your heart resounds a cappella.
It is sad when someone's gaze reveals the lie of wonder.

It is bitter when a sharp misfortune blurs the border.
It is nasty when the mind says it will not get better.
It is worthless when a hidden worry needs an order.
It is hurtful when you send, but get an empty letter.

When you feel the knocking on the door, then rainstorms wander;
An unneeded message drowns on the stoop to suffer.
Memory conceals that your sick heart is not a plunder.
Thinking that the thief exists, your look becomes much tougher.

It is gross when senseless knocking at the door shows tension.
And you smell mismatches, notwithstanding facts and science.
It is me when send the pure paper for attention.
It is you when leave this fool without an alliance.