I have been in pain for far too long,
The days all echo the same old song,
A silent scream in a crowded room,
A wilted flower that cannot bloom.
The nights stretch out like endless thread,
Where restless thoughts refuse to bed,
And memories march like ghosts in chains,
Carving rivers from old pains.
I’ve worn a mask shaped like a smile,
Walked upright through each weary mile,
But beneath each step, a quiet break—
A soul too tired, a heart too ache.
Still, even stones are warmed by sun,
And rivers change what they run on.
So maybe time, though cruel and slow,
Can plant a seed where nothing grows.
I do not ask for perfect peace,
Just for the heaviness to cease—
To feel one moment, still and true,
Where pain lets go, and I come through.
Thank-you for reading.
Much Love and Light,
Brenda Marie
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