In View of the Sad
This came to my mind when watching this:
solitarychild on deviantArt
When the look at something sad and brocken captures us,
and we are miles apart from being able
to say just a nice word or give a warm hug,
all we can do is to feel and sing along with it,
to bow before others pain and hope.Just a new sad face
that you see somewhere.
Such beauty, such complete beauty,
in their bodies so weak,
in their minds so strong.
Untouchable almost,
for they hardly ever feel understood.
The everlasting question in your mind:
"What was it, that they are/were getting through,
that made them so .. empty?"
You've always somehow pushed yourself so far,
to break the border. Countless times you wished,
you might only be one of these that break such borders
within the blink of an eye.
But always you've done your little scratching on the surface.
Shaping it, to feel how it feels.
Warming it, to feel how cold it is.
Will it ever be enough,
or do we only want to believe,
that there's a place better for these,
that had to struggle so much?