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I Am Weak
January 13, 2013
Sitting here
watching you,
watching me.
The pain in your eyes
clouded by the fear
of unchanging it.
The harsh words that rip
and tear at your innocence.
my feeble attempts to shield
you from the storm.
Nothing more than a house
made out of feathers.
Speaking up is hard
when you don’t have a voice.
So I sit here
watching you,
my childhood friend.
Trying to express my love
in the few seconds our eyes meet.
As the mask of happiness
you wear
watches me.
© Beth S., Marblehead, MA
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