In a world that never asked, "Are you okay? "
You kept breathing anyway.
With dust on your dreams and storms in your chest,
You carried your soul, did your broken best.
They called you too much, too loud, too deep,
But still, you sang when you couldn't sleep.
You gave love where there was none returned,
And held your fire when you could've burned.
You whispered prayers you didn't believe,
Because hope felt better than choosing to grieve.
You stitched yourself with trembling hands,
When no one else could understand.
Your strength? It's not in fists or fame—
It's how you cry and love the same.
You, who feels and aches and bends—
You're not alone. I'm your forever friend.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem