By TheFeatheredSleepPosted on


Take out the trash
And as you bend to pick up stray leaves
You see him standing beneath his grief
He wears it heavy like winter wool, boiled in tears
As a man, he doesn’t have the ways of expressing
All those pent up cries
For so long, he was his only resource
Clamboring into himself even further
A boy within a man, hand over mouth
His outward smile is tinged with sadness
Nobody sees because people want to believe
In smiles more than tears
Except me
I have nothing much of myself to recommend
I couldn’t compete, I couldn’t pretend
The square jawed boys at school
Saw through me, reaching for the swan necked girls
Who purred and swam in batted eyelash lakes
And like this man, I grew up shaping myself coarsely
Sometimes doing nothing more than observing
The way we treat others less fortunate
And I came to recognize pain
As if it painted a sign or put up lights
They say comedians are often depressed
Behind the mask, underneath their wax paint
I only know I see, as he bends to loosen the hose and
Water plumes into a cloudless sky
Giving himself permission to cry behind the spray
He hugs himself with cold arms and I watch
The boy who repeated this action until
He could stand without falling
His strength is greater for his fragility
I want
To save his heart
From the cruel ways of those who say they love us
Those, they hurt the most
As if love were a weapon to be used when you get closer
Everything is upside down and the wrong way round
The grey eyed man says
I have to act the opposite of who I am
Just to tred, the thinnest bridge
I am holding empty days in my hand
And husks of dreams beneath my chest
His face mimics the pain beneath his skin
But he trembled, long enough to see
The stricken moment, like passing ghost
The man he tried to be, the loss of certitude
I told him, hope was the only way
And even
When we believe we can take no more
And even, as our last support breaks and crumbles
Abandoning us in our hour of need
When we think we have lost everything and everyone
Staring at the edge wishing we could jump
Then the wind chime is caught by stray breeze
Faraway birds call into the trees
Then the mercy of a stranger leaves
The bearest memory that once
Before grief got in her punches
Reminder of something precious
Long ago when we had faith in ourselves
The little boy he was
Standing staring at the same sorrow
Decided it wouldn’t be the direction for him
Taking everything he had, he set out
To live inspite of it all
And he did
Now with bowed head he reminds me
Of a fallen angel, wondering how
To continue to fly or purchase peace
And I touch his shoulder
When I mean to reach inside
Warm his soul and keep alive
The silent strength behind his eyes

Categories: #fighting #hope #life #love #sadness UncategorizedTags: , , , , , , , ,

28 Replies to “The silent strength”

  2. The pain in this is indescribable. However, it reads like it needed to be written, there’s strength in these words.

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