Tears

His heart is broken.

This should be bad.

People should resent it.

 

But they don't.

They won't.

As I whisper "it's okay" his walls crumble,

Another nameless soul in a sea of plenty,

But I will make him whole.

 

I will be there to listen and to comfort,

Golden sorrow is never shameful,

I will show him the badge he wears.

 

With careful commitment,

With a soft voice,

With gentle prodding,

He will grow.

 

My most flawless expression of me will be shown

A person,

That has now become his own.

This poem is about: 
Me
My community
My country
Our world

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