Tender
A.R.ABDULLAH

I keep a little room inside
where all my broken versions hide,
they sit beneath a yellow light
and wait for me to come at night.
One wears the face I had at ten,
one asks if we'll be loved again,
one holds a flower, dry and blue,
and says, I thought they'd make it through.
Oh, honey, I don't know, I don't know,
where all the tender people go,
when they have given all they knew
and still the world just lets them through.
I learned to laugh, I learned to sing,
to make a home of little things,
a cup of tea, a bird in flight,
a song that keeps me warm at night.
But underneath the melody,
there lives a quieter part of me,
a little animal in rain
that doesn't know its own name.
And I have loved with both hands wide,
with every door unlocked inside,
then watched the wind come through the hall
and wondered why I gave it all.
Oh, darling, don't you cry, don't you cry,
the moon has never asked the sky
why it must leave before the dawn,
some things are beautiful and gone.
I wish I were a river stone,
worn smooth by water, left alone,
with nothing in my chest to prove,
no fear of losing what I love.
But I am only skin and bone,
a frightened heart that wants a home,
a thousand little prayers unsaid,
a thousand ghosts beneath my bed.
So if you find me far away,
with half a smile and nothing to say,
please understand,I'm not unkind,
I'm just somewhere inside my mind.
And if tomorrow comes too slow,
and all the flowers fail to grow,
I'll take my hand, I'll hold it tight,
and be my own way through the night.
Oh, honey, I don't know, I don't know,
how long a broken heart can grow,
but somewhere underneath the blue,
a smaller voice is saying, you,
you are still here.
You are still here.
And maybe that is all
the lonely need to hear.

Oh to see without my eyes