Jolted by bolted days

Beauty painted by nature in the clouds, A big umbrella that shields not the crowds, Pitter-patters and everyone is soaked, Thereafter, sunlight anger is provoked. Brushes not coloured by oil or water, Yet hues of blue, pink and red on blotter, Leaving the painter's brush so sirenic, Just to make the birth of the night scenic. Dark veil then covers twilight's pretty smile, With its splendour taken away in style. The veil was lifted and I was jolted, Twilight just made another day bolted. Old age beckoned and reality dawned. Fulfilment of my heart desires prolonged. Worked hard but the reward is so little, My patience has become very brittle. Since my life is by now in its twilight, Nature is not considering my plight. Nowhere afresh again for me to start. This truth has left a deep hole in my heart.