I can cry, Why cant the sky?

A poem about the drought in my area

I sit at my window,
looking outside.
My garden once green,
Now withered and died.
From all shades of green,
To all shades of yellow.
My livestock looks up to me,
They cry and bellow.

The grass once luscious,
Now turned to dust.
Everything lying dead
On top the earth's crust.
The wind picks up,
Blows dirt in my eye.
I can cry. Why cant the sky?