The Pain in Someone Else’s Eyes

Our voice (no matter how small), our ability to care, empathize, be kind, be a light, be a hand that reaches out, no matter where we are on our own personal journey has become extremely important to me. I felt powerless at this time in the history of our country to help, to affect change, to try to make sense out of the senseless.  But I realized that I am not powerless. I am empowered, with the ability to write words that may touch one heart, or bring a peaceful exhale to one person when they most need it. Or most importantly, words that honestly convey to someone at exactly the right time, that I see you, I hear you, I believe you, and you are worthy.

The Pain in Someone Else’s Eyes

They look so serene
sitting straight
hands slightly clenched
gently laying in their lap.

The cadence of their voice is slow, even, steady, and clear.

The conversation flows.

But when you look into their eyes
the pain of hidden burdens echoes
from the windows of their soul.

You lock in, trying to console the dark
deep pain that oozes quietly
insidiously trying to erode
their dreams of tomorrow.

Giving comfort with a nod
and a gentle smile, you mirror
a silent acceptance of who they are.

Reassuring them that they are seen
and letting them know
that as time passes
it will be okay, that they are okay.

Please don’t turn away
look deep, see and respectfully acknowledge
the pain in someone else’s eyes.

©Alexis Rose, Photo by Tiago Bandeira on Unsplash

Thank you for reading my books: If I Could Tell You How It Feels, and Untangled, A Story of Resilience, Courage, and Triumph    

Seeing the Pain in Someone Else’s Eyes

They look so serene sitting straight, hands slightly clenched, gently laying in their lap.

The cadence of their voice is slow, even, steady, and clear.

The conversation flows.

But when you look into their eyes
the pain of hidden burdens echoes from the windows
of their soul.

You lock in, trying to console the dark, deep pain
that oozes quietly, insidiously trying to erode
their dreams of tomorrow.

Giving comfort with a nod, and a gentle smile,
mirroring a silent acceptance of who they are.

Reassuring them that they are seen
and letting them know that as time passes
it will be okay, that they are okay.

Please don’t turn away; look deep
see and respectfully acknowledge
the pain in someone else’s eyes.

Image source: Pixabay

Thank you for reading my memoir, Untangled, A Story of Resilience, Courage, and Triumph