I soaked my shirt in tears,
grieving for the shadow I’d become
but the puddle you saw
wasn’t enough to lift your pride.
I sought for approval,
In ways far from my liking
Only to drown in sadness
as you watched me burn.
Then why do I find it hard to laugh
when you stumble?
Why do my eyes well up in tears
when you crumble?
My cry for you can’t match any words.
Yet you taught me to trust no one
that the moon will outshine the sun in many phases.
Yet you taught me to judge by one’s feet
dusty or muddy, ignoring their wit.
To stay wide awake,
because heroes don’t exist.