She’s the glue when everyone falls apart,
Smiling steady with a breaking heart.
They lean, they lash, they take their turn,
And call it love while they let her burn.
She’s never enough—too big, too thin,
Too loud, too quiet, wrong shape she’s in.
Her body’s a topic, her worth a debate,
Measured in numbers she can’t escape.
They say they love her
only when she's useful,
only when she's quiet about the damage.
They swear they care, but it’s hollow, rehearsed,
Care that disappears when she’s not at her best.
Still she stays, still pulls them through,
Dying inside—
Holding them too.
She will always be seen as the obstacle.
Her screams for help never audible,
-
Author:
Hadley (
Offline) - Published: January 31st, 2026 22:58
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 17
Offline)
Comments2
Powerful, poignant, profound poem that is beautifully and eloquently written. Thank you.
There always seems to be that one silent suffer who sacrifices themselves for the group or other going unnoticed and a martyr being the cement that holds groups together. This poem seems to be about that person. Nicely done
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.