A weight upon my chest, a stone in hand,
I watch you struggle, understand
The depths of sorrow in your weary eyes,
And feel the helplessness that slowly cries.
I yearn to lift the burden, mend the tear,
To whisper comfort, banish every fear.
But outstretched hands fall limp and incomplete,
For words are feeble when the wounds run deep.
I witness strength, where shadows might reside,
A flicker of defiance, the will to confide.
Though silent tears may trace a mournful map,
There’s resilience shining, even in the trap.
And perhaps, my presence, though it can’t erase,
Offers a hand to hold, a shared space.
To simply listen, offer empathy’s balm,
And let you know you’re not facing this alone in the calm.
For sometimes, healing doesn’t need a cure,
But a witness to the storm, a heart that’s pure.
So I’ll stand beside you, though I cannot mend,
A silent promise, until the journey’s end.
