Maybe, you will start to care
if their shadows are no longer there.
You will start to look
when they're already lost on the road they took.
Maybe, you will take heed
or start to read,
when the letters that they wrote
somehow became a suicide note.
Despair isn't visible, my friend.
It's a hidden wound that needs to mend.
So if someone is struggling,
make a call or you should go visiting.
If they're too tired to even cry or speak,
remind them that asking for help doesn't make us weak.
Extend your hand wide enough.
Start now and save a life.
— Jan Di
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In Dreams, We Find Our Rhymes
PoetryWell, I just can't describe my poems better than how this piece of mine describes them. 🌠 "What My Poetry Is Made Of" I am not someone who has rich vocabulary. My phrases, my clauses will always be ordinary, so I just use the simple words that I...
