~ Esther Mitchell, 2012~
Crying into the void,
Mute to the world,
Invisible to all eyes,
Until existence is in question.
Words, unspoken, unread,
A life left broken,
Hurts and joys alike left unsaid,
Until hope itself lies battered, wasted.
A life seen only in service,
An existence judged on others’ demands,
No compassion, no honor, no assistance,
Nothing given, only taken, leaving a shell.
Support is an illusion,
Left to crumble, brick by brick,
Until the House of Hope lies in ruin,
And on to the next world a battered soul’s crept.