Everyone needs sympathy

This is not really a poem, more of a look into the mind... of William Rowe...

Everyone needs sympathy, we all feel an urge deep within where dreams are born, to be comforted and loved by someone, anyone, whoever will take us.

William Rowe glanced around at his fellow mourners, a look of deep sadness on his face, as if his anguish came from the very depths of his soul, but inside he felt nothing. He stood over the body of a friend, someone he had grown up with, and felt an emptiness so vast, so complete as to rival that of a black hole. He wondered to himself, why? Why are they all so sad, yet I feel not a thing? Am I cruel to be so callous in the face of death? Why do I not feel as deep a sorrow as my face implies? Why am I putting on this grim, mocking, masquerade? But no answer came to him, no divine revelation fell from the heavens. No voice was there to help him. He was alone, and yet, he felt no remorse even for himself. He was not grieved by the fact that there was no one there to help him. He only felt that black hole of emotion, sucking away all feeling before he could even taste them, leaving only a soft hazy emptiness that nothing could penetrate.

William Rowe sits with this creature of amazing beauty and feels. For the first time that he can remember, he is loved. Here is someone who wants to hold him, to speak soft words to him that drift through the hazy nothingness, caressing his mind like the softest velvet. She sits near him, cuddling close for the mere purpose of feeling comforted by his presence. But why... why should she feel comforted by his presence when it was him would destroyed the wings of this beautiful butterfly. Ripped them off as violently and effectively as a bolt of lightning. Forever is her freedom taken from her. Forever will she be chained by these unbreakable shackles that he has placed upon her. Never shall she fly free again, free to do as she would with the wind that carried her onward. Now she was only doomed to writhe upon the ground, as William did. A tear... a lonely tear drips from his face... he feels... sadness... a sadness so great as to drive the haze away and overtake his entire being completely. But the sadness... it is not for himself... it is for this butterfly... this creature of such astonishing beauty as to make the goddesses of ancient times envy her. His sadness is for her loss... for the realization that she should not have met him... that she still loved him, and held him, through the sadness that he knew she felt... she did not blame him. The realization hit him harder than the most powerful hurricane, all at once ripping his being apart with the ease of a giant trodding upon an ant. He now sits... waiting for her to realize that he is the cause of her pain... that he is the one that should carry her shackles as well as his own... he sits... and cries...

We all need sympathy, no matter how hard we hide it behind cheerful smiles and flirtatious comments. We all need to be held in a way that does not leave us wanting. To be filled so completely with that... something. Our entire lives are built on finding that something, we just need the love of another to help us in our search...

Did you find it? If you have, then I envy you, and at the same time, I am happy for you. I pray that your life will remain happy to the end of your days.