There is a place inside you No map has ever traced, a quiet room behind the ribs where light forgets to stay. No one sees it when you smile, No one hears it when you speak. It moves beneath your laughter like a river running deep. It is yours alone to carry, not carved for other hands, a language made of silence Only your soul understands. Some mornings it is heavier, a stone you cannot name, And still you rise and wear your life as if it were the same. But pain, it does not leave you when ignored or pushed away, it waits within the folds of time, it learns you day by day. It is not your enemy, though it cuts without a sound; it is the truth you buried but still lives underground. And yes, there are nights it breaks you, when endurance feels too wide, when even breath feels borrowed And there is nowhere left to hide. Yet somehow you continue, not because you do not fall, but because within the breaking You still answer life’s call. You learn to walk beside it, not beneath it, not above...
Where suffering greeted me at dawn,
Sadness became my daily meal,
I swallowed silence with each breath,
A hidden tear, yet a bleeding heart concealed.
I walk as though the world has no vein for me,
No pulse of mercy, no gentle hand,
Each step feels borrowed, each smile forced,
On soil that barely lets me stand.
I watch the faces I meet each day,
Those who’ve never tasted this kind of pain,
They say I chose this road of lack,
They call it laziness, they call it vain.
They do not see the nights I wrestle hope,
The mornings I rise already tired,
The strength it takes just to begin,
The dreams that ache, yet won’t expire.
Little do they know, I try every day,
Even when faith feels thin and torn,
I plant my prayers in broken ground,
Believing still in a better morn.
For hope survives where hearts still beat,
Though bruised, though bent, it learns to stay,
And from this pain, I whisper on:
Tomorrow will be kinder than today.
© 2025 Gloria Penelope
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