Poetry: Lachrymose

Grant them peace, their hearts weep.

I see a girl who forgot to do her homework assignment. It was worth half her grade and now she will have to retake the class the following year.

I see a boy who struggles with internal emotions as he tries unsuccessfully resolve his conflicting emotions regarding a family suicide.

I see a girl who tries to hide her continual pain that she has dealt with for several years.

I see a boy who has tied himself up in so many commitments and has given himself so many responsibilities that he is drowning in a sea of stress.

I see a girl who has made choices to make herself ostracized and lives with a sinking feeling that she doesn't matter nor has anyone close to herself.

I see a boy that struggles with identity and staying true to his values that even he doesn't understand well enough to fight for them.

I see a girl that has stuck herself between her past and her future, refusing to give up either world- losing both in the process.

I see a boy that doesn't know how to interact with others except with formalities and distance. As he is buried in his responsibilities and work he doesn't know when or how to turn to others.

I see a girl that seeks to be closer to her morals and live sinlessly but doesn't know how to get rid of her earthly ties that trap her, bind her, tease her apart, mock her without compassion.

I see a boy who is so torn between his desires and his options that choosing nothing and becoming numb to his emotions to avoid decisions and conflict has literally become easier for him.

I see a girl who is lost and broken. I see a boy who has been destroyed and left emotionless. I see them laying there on the side of the road, collecting car debris as they fight a losing battle to get up and overcome. I see them lost, stuck, broken. But I cannot reach them. So I watch.

I see a young girl full of spirit and spite, full of hopes and dreams... grow up. As she encounters the world it stabs her. As she attempts closeness with those around her, she becomes an object of abuse and scorn. Her spirit gets worn down. Her spite fades into despair. Her hopes abandon her. Her dreams fade away with her tears. Now she is left with none of her originality at all. No one comforts, no one understands, no one sees.  Her vitality is depleted. Without the energy to add life back into her body, she will continue until death as a shadow of who she once was.

I see a boy whose body betrayed him. With puberty hit depression. It hit him hard. He stumbled out of control and hurt a lot of people because he was blinded by his own pain. He lost connection with almost every person he knew. He did poorly in school, having to repeat classes, even grades. He spent a great deal of time in mental health institutions and juvenile detention. Now he is older and is trying to leave his past behind so that he might have a future free from who he once was. But his depression traps him down, holding him hostage. He does not know if he will ever be able to get free.

I see them. I see them all. And I stand, trapped. For while I see this brokenness, I have none. For while I witness this despairing life, I am lifeless. 'Harden your heart,' I tell myself. 'Turn away. Forget them.' But I cannot. For my heart weeps with theirs. For as I see them stumble, fall, break... it is impossible to look away without seeing it get better. It never does, so watching this sink becomes addicting. Hoping for an outcome that never dawns.

I see a boy who chose his path too late and lost it all.

I see a girl who lost patience a little too quickly... and it destroyed her values.

I see children born perfect become teenagers that get swamped in this world of greed and falsehood so that when they are adults their lives and hearts are both empty. Their dreams are depleted and there is nothing for them to look forward to.

I see a stumble lead to a scraped knee that gets infected so badly that the leg is amputated and that example gets glorified and out of fear no one does anything out of fear of a stumble... leading themselves to nothingness.

And they don't see each other because their own pains are quite large. And then all come to me, hoping that I'll have an answer. But my mouth is mute, my lips are sealed. My hands are tied down. So I just gaze on them. They call me lachrymose but they envy me for they know I have no personal issues or pains. They envy the one who is trapped because they feel trapped and it fill me with pity.

Grant them peace, their hearts weep.