Please tell me,
If my heart bleeds and my soul cries,
And my scars still ache from time to time,
How is my pain any less than yours?
How can you compare which one of us hurts more?
And why did you decide it’s you?
We all have our crosses to carry.
In each carrier’s eyes, their own are rarely less than someone else’s.
And some eyes see that they carry more than others.
That may be true, but should we compare?
And some people may seem as if they have a small cross on their neck.
Is it shiny? Is it bright?
Can’t you see the filth under the light?
And its weight is truly more.
So much more.
I would polish yours, if I could.
I would help you carry it.
Yet there is not much I can truly do,
But walk on the path of life with you.