For the people who do things alone. Who take long romantic walks with no one but the breeze and the chill of the night air for company. Those who fought cancer without support and had no one to call when they got the all clear. For anyone surrounded by people but feels insignificant and unnoticed. Travellers who take unconventional routes to unconventional places, forging trails while blind with tears of worry. The sweet pretty clever girl who never had anyone tell her she’s sweet, pretty and clever, The musician who writes songs that we’ll never hear, but the love of music drowns out the sound of perceived failure The man in the wheelchair, who hopes and waits for the kind of depthless relentless love that’s so tremendous it’s blind to the chair, but has only experienced polite friendship. The young divorcee who wonders if she’ll ever love again. To the boy whose uncle touched him in places he daren’t admit to anyone, who daily slays demons only he can see. To the ones who cut in quiet hidden places to relieve themselves of a pain they can’t locate To those still mourning and silently praying that the beatitude is true, that they are blessed too To those coping and those crushed by hope. To the bridesmaid who walked down the aisle in love with a bride that can never be hers. The people who venture out alone, knowing when they come home everything will have changed and everything will be the same. The girl who misses the dad she never knew Child who’s currently trying to fly Those who have forgotten how to dream You are not alone.
Posted on: Tue, 30 Jul 2013 10:54:13 +0000
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