A broken dream

Still standing under the falling rain,
With no umbrella;they thought I lost my brain.
"How come he's still there and doesn't complain?
What's the use of doing so?what's his gain?"
They whispered those words in a disdain.

What they didn't know of is my special case.
All they could see is what I am on the surface.
If they only looked deeper and followed the pace,
They'd find out that everyone has something to chase
No matter what dangers he or she might face.

Mine was vaporized & from my mind, I was to dispel
With the help of that pure rain which on my head fell.
I tend to think big and all the trivial thoughts I repel
And hate being trapped in a hardly noticed shell.
Yet, this thinking can be cataclysmic, I must tell.

Wonderful poem, w-ch. I really like it, good job.
I do love this stanza:

What they didn't know of is my special case.
All they could see is what I am on the surface.
If they only looked deeper and followed the pace,
They'd find out that everyone has something to chase
No matter what dangers he or she might face.

thank you brother ........ your poem expresses exactly what the graduated students of Classic who found the doors of MA closed just because they are scapegoats...really feel.