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 
👌👌👌🖼🌹🌹🌹
LikeLiked by 1 person
💗💗
LikeLike
This poem really touches me.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Rachel. 💕 That means a lot.
LikeLike
Such a powerful and touching piece, Sara. The image is perfect as well. Wonderful. Truly enjoyed.💕❤️💕
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Grace. 💗
LikeLiked by 1 person
My pleasure.💕❤️💕
LikeLiked by 1 person
Your drawings are so poignant and evocative. And the poem sets them off. A truly moving combination.
LikeLiked by 1 person
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. 💕
LikeLiked by 1 person
💕 glad you’re letting little Sara have a moment. As you know—I’m right in this space with you. 💕
LikeLiked by 1 person
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? 💕💕
LikeLiked by 1 person
Heart achingly beautiful, Sara. ❤️
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Jeff. 💗
LikeLiked by 1 person
You’re welcome, Sara. Always. 💖
LikeLiked by 1 person
Beautifully written
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you! 💗💗
LikeLike
My pleasure
LikeLiked by 1 person