you can see them, the scars from the old days, wounds from past lovers and parents and trusted friends when you look too closely; it's probably better not to speak of them.
you get deeper into it, and you can't help but see that they make them limp a little when the pressure changes, and you want to make it better but you can't, you can't make the scars go away.
but you can watch them fade, a little bit at a time, over years and months and days, and marvel at the resiliency of the human spirit, the mind within, the heart that beats out all the feelings and the love, and that other thing that drives the battered and bruised body through one moment after another on towards the end.
you can't do anything for your friends, or the others we happen to be with here. can't change them. can't help them. can't make it all better.
but...
you can hold their hand and know, for a fact, that they are also holding yours.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Thanks for your comments, your opinions are valued, even if I disagree with them. Please feel free to criticize my ideas and arguments, question my observations, and push back if you disagree.