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“Empath Hearts that smell the sorrow Soaks us up, but borrowed It pricks the eyes like onions' stench Instigating us to clenched Captivating eyes with a puzzled glance They know not the fear that it plants All I grasp are shards of glass I hear the sound just like the bats Broken from the world we live in History shuns any emotional whirlwind I know the moment will eventually pass The overbearing altitude The high humidity it casts Still, the spirit pulses its cry I could not ignore it, no, not I Its vibration makes such a clearing Irrational pause, so domineering Tears are a constant side effect Pouring down and making a mess I can’t form the words to comfort thee Society bans any feelings or needs With absolutes and shameful banes With no remedy or comfort gained In truth, I wish I could cure this curse To let go and escape the populace hurt But I can’t let this emotion pass Because I’m an empath” — C.D. Warren