If I Knew Then What I Know Now

(Shared this on our Facebook page a few days ago)

I Don’t Want to be Resilient.

In the quiet of the night, where shadows softly creep, she finds herself alone again, too tired to even weep. Her children dream in peaceful slumber, unaware of her fight, while she wrestles with the silence that fills the endless night.

They call her strong, resilient but inside, she feels the weight, the fear of breaking down. Each day she plays the hero, in a role she didn’t choose, wearing smiles like armour, while her heart is held together with glue.

Her hands are rough, her spirit worn and frayed. She craves a moment solace, where the burden might be laid. The world sees her resilience, a testament to her grace, Yet no one sees the cracks that mark her weary face.

She’s fed up with the label that masks her deep despair, longing for a shoulder, for someone just to care. To be more than a symbol, a story to inspire. She dreams of rest and comfort, and for her children to know, she will always care.

In the quiet hours of the night, where shadows softly weave, she whispers to the darkness, a plea for a reprieve. For a day without struggle, a night without tears, for a life that’s not about resilience, not about battling through fears.

She wants to be a woman, not just a mother strong and true, to feel the warmth of kindness, to feel the love abound. But until that day of freedom, she will carry on alone. A single mother, weary, in a world she still sees, filled with hope.

xXx