True Sadness Poem by Suzanne Hayasaki

Some days I think sadness is the true state of man
And love a temporary reprieve from our inner isolation.
I think each man is an island, unknown, unapproachable
Teeming with secrets we try to hide beneath a misty mantle.

We may seem cheerful.
We may appear proud.
We may feign anger.
We may even love.

But even in the steadiest devotion there is doubt.
Worries creep out in the middle of the night,
Waking us or chasing us endlessly in dreams,
Leaving us a little less certain of what we deserve.

So look around you with compassion.
Remember that everyone is in pain.
Maybe if we admit that combat just opens new wounds
We can begin to find grounds for a lasting truce.

And perhaps in the wreckage of our conflict
In the peace between the attacks
We can sit in the stillness and listen
To the birds, to the rain, to our breath.

And maybe we can remember
That we all fight out of fear
That we strike when we feel threatened
That beneath each warrior's armor

Is a beating heart as scarred as our own.