The Thin Line
Those lines can sometimes go for miles,
Yet their reasons travel farther.
Some go deep while others just
Drag along the surface.
But no matter how shallow,
The inner pain is far more profound.
Oh friend,
I know of the thin lines
Tucked beneath your sleeves,
And of the lines stretched
Across the smoothness of our wrist.
Every tear-carved.
Every struggle- etched.
Every memory- engraved
Behind closed walls the misery leaked forth
As you stood encased in the darkness.
Yet my eyes still peered through
As if those walls were open widows.
Troubled soul,
Be still and let me reach
Out to alleviate those whips of despair.
Let me touch you with halos of relief.
Allow me to foster your pain
So that you may see every tear-vanish;
Every struggle-perish;
Every memory-diminish;
Until those thin lines are no more.
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