She,
She was tired.
Tired to be understanding
With everyone
Tired of always saying
"Yes, alright"
When she would have wanted
To screw it all.
She,
She was tired of talking
Without being understood
Or listened to.
Tired to appear
The strong one, always
Able to take it all.
She,
She was hiding
Behind those smiles
A trampled soul
And so much pain.
She,
She asked
To be understood
Through her silences.
She asked
A crumb of love
Somebody telling her
"This is enough
I'll be with you,
Everything will be better".
She cries
In secret.
She
I'm the only one
Who can understand her.
She, I.
~ ~ ~
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© Rosanne Donatiello ~
