Usually things would be fine,
I’d press on with a smile.
I can’t keep it off my face,
I can’t stop it from bringing me down.
She smiles and asks if I’m fine.
I’m not and I tell her so.
She puts a hand on my shoulder.
Her light dispels a bit of the gloom.
She listens as I speak about the problem.
Her light continues to fight off my doubts.
At the end she doesn’t say anything,
But she doesn’t have to.
I know she cares.
Her light tells me so.