The world makes you invisible,
treats you as if you are an imbecile,
till the retching tears
tear across your tired face,

but I see you.

You try to do what’s right,
but that is not always easy to define.
It is exhausting seeking  
to steady a conflicted mind,
while trying to keep on
being kind,

but dear I know you try.

So, later in the night
when you lay your head to cry,
I know it isn’t much.
It’s not a kiss or a hug,
or that special lover’s
soft assuaging touch….

but I see you.