If they’d stop to think
Step into their shoes
See the floods of tears
Hear the wails of grief
Piercing and visceral
Like a howling banshee
A hole that can’t be filled
A heart shattered like glass
Spirits broken like bones
Hopes and dreams dissolve
In front of soulless eyes
That have seen so much
Beg to have them sewn shut
Their own will to carry on
Hangs like a gossamer thread
Straining in the delicate wind
If only they’d stop to think
That they have mothers too