The soul cries softly, unseen, unheard,
While the body stands, a healthy word.
A smile may mask the pain within,
But the soul’s thin sighs are hard to pin.

Don’t judge too quickly what you see,
For beneath the surface, there may be
A burden heavy, a silent plea,
That wears the soul so thin, so free.

Behavior may seem harsh or strained,
Yet the soul’s deep weight is unexplained.
Listen past the outward guise,
And you might hear where true pain lies.

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Ruth Oyerinde