Translated from the Spanish original by L.G.G.
He walked among us
with steps that seemed steady,
but in his chest
the ground was breaking a little more each day.
He smiled in the hallways,
said “I’m fine” in every talk,
and no one saw that in his eyes
an endless winter lived.
He carried storms in his pockets,
questions without answers under his skin.
His phone buzzed with quick phrases,
but never with a “I’m truly here for you.”
He screamed in silence so many times,
his voice turned to ashes.
He wrote invisible letters
in the steam of the shower,
hoping that someone, someday,
would read his early goodbyes.
September lit the hope,
with yellow ribbons on the streets,
with voices saying “you are not alone.”
But he, sitting in the darkness of his room,
no longer heard anything.
That night, the moon leaned through the window
and found him surrendered,
with broken eyes,
with open hands
as if waiting for an embrace that never came.
The clock moved on without hurry,
and the world kept spinning
while his light faded slowly.
At dawn, the house was calm.
The bed untouched.
The silence unbearable.
And on the desk, a wrinkled note:
“I didn’t want to leave,
but you left me alone
when I was screaming the loudest inside.”
That note burned in every glance,
like a cruel mirror.
And then they understood, too late,
that it wasn’t him who gave up,
it was us who never learned to listen.
-
Author:
Lore (
Offline) - Published: September 9th, 2025 11:25
- Comment from author about the poem: This poem hits me very deeply. As I read it, I felt a knot in my throat, as if each verse reminded me of how easy it is to overlook the pain of someone who seems “fine.” It hurt to think about those smiles hiding tears, those “I’m okay”s that are really silent screams. To me, it means absence, it means silence, but also a reproach that cuts deep: it wasn’t the person who gave up, it was us who didn’t know how to listen. That ending broke me, because it reflects the guilt that stays with those of us who remain. This poem makes me promise myself to look beyond what’s obvious, to ask with my heart, to give a hug in time. Because you never know when someone needs it to keep going.
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 6
- Users favorite of this poem: Fränz Müller
Offline)
Comments2
Two points of view maybe only one if the other is not watching. A sad and tragic poem about indifference in society and the distance and tragedy that can occur when we choose to ignore others. Well written
Thank you very much, I'm glad you liked it.
You are most welcome
There is something to he said about reading the right poem at the right moment, and this is that. Thank you.
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.