When the young one cries
Tears seep from jagged places
A deep salty sting
That burns from within
When the young one cries
Her voice is inaudible
But her pain is palpable
Shrinking and shuddering
Inside her own skin
When the young one cries
She asks herself why
They don’t notice
Why they fail to see her
She wonders what if
She could matter
Only for a moment
Just long enough
To help dry the tears
From this young one’s tired eyes
Wishing Tree 
👌👌👌🖼🌹🌹🌹
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💗💗
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This poem really touches me.
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Thank you, Rachel. 💕 That means a lot.
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Such a powerful and touching piece, Sara. The image is perfect as well. Wonderful. Truly enjoyed.💕❤️💕
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Thank you, Grace. 💗
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My pleasure.💕❤️💕
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Your drawings are so poignant and evocative. And the poem sets them off. A truly moving combination.
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Thank you so much. Artistic expression is a powerful tool to help me access internal feelings that don’t make much sense. Once I start drawing then words start to emerge to help me figure out and name what’s going on inside.
I appreciate your comment. It sure is nice to know that this stuff can make sense outside of my own head. 💕
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💕 glad you’re letting little Sara have a moment. As you know—I’m right in this space with you. 💕
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Thank you. 💕It may not change the weight of the feelings, but it does bring comfort to know we’re not alone in this space, doesn’t it? 💕💕
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Heart achingly beautiful, Sara. ❤️
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Thank you, Jeff. 💗
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You’re welcome, Sara. Always. 💖
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