The Cloud

A vile, black cloud hovers over me,
It follows wherever I go.
Whether in a crowded room or all alone
It hovers over only me.

In this cloud there is no thunder,
Only voices from my past,
Recalling vague and distant memories,
Reminding me of every blunder.

When it unleashes its fury,
My tears fall like rivers down my cheeks.
Though I hastily wipe them away,
My vision remains blurry.

What a fool I was
To think I actually mattered.
Is it too much to ask
To be loved just because?