Somedays it seems I hold a heart in my hand,

never really sure where it came from or where it all began, it gets hard to tell if the pain is really there,

or all in my head.  

Sometimes I feel numb enough,

there's no telling for sure,

I just know that it hurts,

and search all around,

but never find my cure.  

At times good things can scare me,

it's grown hard to hope for the best,

always wondering if that promise of more to come,

will be what puts me to the test,

delivering a final blow to drive me to my knees.  

A heart that longs to love,

sickens every day,

spent lost in silent misery,

while radiant youth slips so quietly away.  

It's quite the endless journey,

hardening yourself to the suffering around you,

yet keeping yourself open to be there,

for those you find in need.  

Somedays it's a journey that never amounts to much it seems, every step forward taken is just another one behind.  

You learn to measure it all,

by things most people never see.  

But even if they did,

in this time where we all strive to feel,

struggling against a numbness we never really see,

all trying to find some reason,

that most would never accept or agree.  

So why believe me?

I've learned to measure,

in the simple things that matter most,

that most never get to see.  

I've shared my suffering and love,

with those poor, broken souls,

those who've fallen behind in life,

learning to believe,

those hateful lies our lives often use against us,

burying us in our miseries,

while we're willingly deceived.  

My heart has nearly broken,

at the neglect they think is their only right.  

Their acceptance of this daily rape,

not only of the soul,

but also of their hearts,

reaches a fist inside my chest,

making it so hard to breathe.  

I want to scream in rage at the injustice,

that these special, beautiful souls call life.  

I can't help but cry at the daily pains,

they've all convinced themselves are meaningless,

the deeply buried shames that have never healed,

feeling they do not matter to anyone else,

so just pushed them down inside...

I want to cradle each of them,

while that lost child inside,

forced to bear all these many things,

with no friendship or love to help stem the flood tide,

is sheltered within my arms and concern,

at long last able to grieve.  

Everyone needs a friend, needs love,

that allows them to just be.

I offer that up to those of you,

who are willing to trust,

those of you in need, who are willing to believe.

Feel the reality of what I say,

be willing to trust what your heart can see,

I'm offering you a friend,

but first, you have to trust in me.

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