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...
They mistook her kindness for a lack of sense,
Called her foolish, bent her will,
Turned her service into offense,
And worked her spirit until it stood still.
They spoke over her, used her days,
Then erased her good with careless tongues,
Ungrateful words replaced her praise,
Each lie louder than the truth she’d sung.
Because she wore no fancy clothes,
No borrowed shine, no proud display,
They judged her worth by dress and strife
And laughed at the quiet way she stayed.
Her heart bled softly, unseen, unheard,
An inner pain she learned to hide,
She grew weak alone, yet in their world
She stood upright, unbroken inside.
All she asked of heaven’s ear
Was one small opening, one return,
A path back home, to roots held dear,
To the place her wounded soul still yearned.
And when that opening finally came,
She did not look back, she did not plead
She left with scars, but not with shame,
Returning to her roots… her truest creed.
© 2026 Gloria Penelope
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