**"The Silent Cracks"**
In the quiet, where chalk meets board,
A garden grows that none have explored.
But the roses there, though ready to bloom,
Wilt beneath a cloud of silent gloom.
*“I offer them light, but shadows remain,”*
*“I offer them warmth, but they turn in disdain.”*
*Still, I rise.*
Their words, sharp as unsharpened blades,
Cut deep in places where no one wades.
Their eyes, cold like a winter’s glaze,
Douse the fire meant to set hearts ablaze.
*“I offer them light, but shadows remain,”*
*“I offer them warmth, but they turn in disdain.”*
*Still, I rise.*
They toss aside the seeds I give,
Arrogance sprouting where respect should live.
Like trees that grow but bend not to the breeze,
They stand stiff, unmoved by gentle pleas.
*“I offer them light, but shadows remain,”*
*“I offer them warmth, but they turn in disdain.”*
*Still, I rise.*
Their indifference, a rain of jagged stone,
Pierces through, though I stand alone.
Each lesson, a bridge built over a chasm,
But they burn it down with careless sarcasm.
*“I offer them light, but shadows remain,”*
*“I offer them warmth, but they turn in disdain.”*
*Still, I rise.*
I, a candle flickering in the storm,
Brave the winds that refuse to warm.
Yet even the brightest flame can tire,
When it’s met not with fuel, but with mire.
*“I offer them light, but shadows remain,”*
*“I offer them warmth, but they turn in disdain.”*
*Still, I rise.*
Still, I plant and tend, though hands grow sore,
Hoping one day they'll open the door,
To see that my heart was never stone,
But soft as soil, breaking alone.
*Still, I rise.*
