Listen

Words are just a wrapper—
Truth lives in the ache,
Not in the noise we speak,
But in what starts to break.

We often make remarks,
Wearing their grief like borrowed skin,
But fail to touch the fire,
That burns beneath within.

"I feel alone," we think we hear—
"I'm fearful. I'm not okay."
We answer, "I'm sorry,"
Then turn and walk away.

But somewhere in the underneath,
Where real things tend to hide,
If you'd just listen—really listen—
You'd hear the breaking inside.

Always armed with “I’ve been there,”
As if that makes it right—
"You feel alone? What do you mean?
I texted you last night."

Not every wound is waiting
To be matched with one of yours.
Sometimes the kindest thing to do
Is keep your own behind closed doors.

Their voice is not a trigger
For your pain to take the stage.
It’s not a prompt—it’s not a test—
It’s someone else’s cage.

No “me too,” no “here’s my version,”
No jumping in to fix—
Just stillness in the sacred space
Where truth and silence mix.

It’s not your turn when someone breaks—
Their pain is not your cue.
Hold your story. Shut your mouth.
This moment’s not about you.

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John Fleming

Date: 7/29/2025 1:43:00 AM

Worthy of far more attention than it has received - real gutsy poetry - makes an instant impact! Good stuff, Tracy. :) john

Tracy McBride
Date: 7/29/2025 7:53:00 AM

Wow, thank you, John. I wrote this from a place of frustration and truth—because sometimes silence is the loudest support we can give. Your words made me feel heard, too.

Paul Bell

Date: 7/28/2025 12:05:00 PM

There's always someone who feels your pain, unfortunately they feel it a little too much. Probably why they say, a friend in need is a hypochondriac.

Tracy McBride
Date: 7/29/2025 7:27:00 AM

That comment actually proves why I wrote the poem. Not every cry for help needs a clever comeback—sometimes, just listening is enough.