I wish people to know I lend an ear.
For the words that are difficult to hear.
For the weight of phrases and sentences to be transferred from one set of shoulders to another.
I am here.
I do often care.
Of people whom may not know my thoughts will drift to, dutifully, like a ritual.
A mantra, brittle as a poorly kept page in a book left to rot by the ages of man.
But strong as a heavily rooted oak and the foul weather it surpasses.
And when you call me a dreamer for my far away stare, it is more than a dream; with the universe I share.
Some days.. it is silent prayer.
For the ones who used an offered ear,
For the ones who thought of sharing but could not bear.
For the minds that bend and shake.
For the souls that almost break.
For that dull ache in your chest; you've done your very best.
Bow your head, the time has come; now rest.
