Poem: Pain

The weight is a whisper, but heavy, it stays,
A shadow that follows through long, aching days.
Each step is a battle, each breath a plea,
Yet somehow, I move, somehow, I’m free.

The muscles protest, the bones start to creak,
But there’s something inside that refuses to break.
Pain may carve lines where softness once lay,
But it won’t steal the will to find my way.

Like rivers that carve through the hardest stone,
I push through the fire, though I feel alone.
Every ache is a rhythm, each throb is a song,
That tells me, “Keep going, you’re where you belong.”

The body will falter, the nerves may scream,
But in this moment, I chase a dream.
The hurt is a teacher, though cruel in its class,
It whispers, “This too shall pass.”

So I stand, though the world pulls me down,
I rise, through the pain, I wear it like a crown.
For the strength lies not in the absence of ache,
But in moving forward, despite what it takes.

Thank-you for reading.

Much Love and Light,

Brenda Marie Fluharty