Alice.

I took a walk to clear my head and it suddenly starts raining.
"Of course!" I say, a little too loud and a woman hears me complaining.
She has ghost whit hair, leather skin, and a cigarette in her hand.
She says, "Tell me your troubles, sweet heart, and I'll try to understand."
I shelter myself under the cover of her interest in me and instantly forget the rain.
Then I pour out all my misery, thoughts, and my pain.
All the boys that broke my heart, the girls I wish I was, how all I ever wanted, really, was an ounce of my mothers love.
The woman listened quietly, just puff, puff, puffing away, and when I finally stopped for breath,
This is what she had to say:
"You're problem is, girly, you need a man not a boy; A strong and able lover who won't treat you like a toy.
And those girls aint got nothin, that you yourself don't have.
Except those cruel and little boys, and for that you should be glad.
So next time you see a guy, that's put you through sadness,
wink at the girl he's with and thank her for sparing you that mess."
With that the old woman smiled, and stared up at the rain.
She said, "Me and my mama never got along either but I'd give my new hip to see her again."
I thought for a minute and felt a little dumb for being so naive.
The woman must have sensed my strife and left this with me:
"Little lady, we all have had our share of pain, but the last thing you should ever do is blame it on the rain."