I wonder what hurts more
The fact that they hurt you behind your back,
Or the fact that you let them.
Maybe it's the way they disregard you.
The subtle actions that deteriorate your worth.
Press in the idea that you are lower.
Maybe it's the way you still smile,
Despite knowing all this.
The pain and the tiredness briefly flickering through.
Or maybe it's because I never stopped to help.
I just stood,
And watched.
YOU ARE READING
To: You
شِعرPoems addressed to you. You who is my friend. You who is my family. You ... who has yet to become anything and everything.
