You can't lose that much and walk away whole.
I watch them every day - my people -
drowning in hard times while the sun rises and falls.
I see it. I feel it. And I can do nothing.
That helplessness eats at you slowly.
It hollows you out until there's nothing left but grief.
It changes you, yes…
but not into someone stronger.
Just into someone more tired. More broken. Less you.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem