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Poem

Written: October 29, 2023
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Years gradually build up over time.
I sit on my knees and feel sublime.
Wounds need to heal and look for solace.
As time goes on, insight retains a promise.

Lessons to learn, and curses to face,
What was once ignored, I now embrace.
Often their stories never feel heard.
For reasons of grief, blame, and absurd.

But I consider the norms of a wider society.
Seeking to grasp people's prior sobriety
Scars may remain on the inside, unhealed.
Contrastingly, I grew up feeling compelled.

When tears arise and the strain is severe.
Aspire that some people may adhere.
Let them avoid being sentenced to silence.
But let their murmurs resound into reliance.

Stories were shared in a whispered tone.
Vitality and tenacity appear in their groan.
Scars and pain from wounds may persist.
Endure when failing to show how to resist.

Not hidden, voices will resonate and share.
Their hardships, achievements, and despair
So, do not switch a blind eye to the invisible.
Let us hear their whispers—they are valuable.

A peek into their souls, an echo of their size
Their tales let us grip similarities in people's eyes.
We feel their pain and applaud their success
Scars serve as proof that we, too, can progress.

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