You are heard.
Your cries are echoing through infinite skies.
One can't fathom the present tortures you endure,
Drowning in a sea of temptation.
And just as you begin to gather the motivation
To emerge from your humiliation,
Your lungs are engulfed with defeat.
You see the surface but you can't reach it.
You're handcuffed to the ocean floor,
Chasing what could be, but won't be.
How pitiful it must be to be frozen;
Watching the world,
Which seems to be moving in slow motion,
How haunting it must be
To see the ones you love,
But can't touch or hold them
Like you should, like you would.
You wish that you could.
One can't imagine the pain you suffer.
Freedom is inopportune.
The sunlight taunts you.
Your aching heart wants to reach out
And embrace the beams that rain down
from the heavens;
Melt in its homely warmth,
But your body still grasps the darkness.
It still falls short of its duties, responsibilities.
How tragic it must be to know that,
As you lie in that single bed,
Society keeps changing, growing,
Shrinking without you;
You never know who's thinking about you.
You never know who's cursing you
beneath their lips.
But it's okay mother, you are heard.
Never brushed off.
Beloved, you are.