Sympathy

This is a man...
Who wears Death on his cuff.
Would you sit beside him in his grave,
When the chemo's not enough?
This is a girl...
Whose soul is bound to go.
Would you lay with her on her deathbed,
To cry her tears of woe?
This is a boy...
Who holds the gun up to his brow
Would you take his hand,
On the chance he'll put it down?
Sympathy
One of the cursed emotions
The one that tries, in vain
To take notice of a stranger
And feel away the pain.