Carrying One's Pain With Dignity
I have learned to walk through sorrow softly,
As one might cross a field of dew at dawn—
Each step a shimmer, each breath a prayer.
The world does not stop for grief,
Yet the roses still unfold their tender hearts,
Unmindful of the ache beneath the sun.
There is no shame in silent tears,
No weakness in a bowed head—
Only the grace of those who endure.
Pain is the shadow that proves our light,
A companion we neither curse nor praise,
But carry, folded in the heart’s deep pocket—
A secret weight that teaches how to love.
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