We Are

We are the survivors of a cruel and unusual Hell.  We are the walking, talking bruises collected.  We are the smiling faces in the center of a storm.  We are the crying angels in the midnight hours.  We are the shadows.  We are the light.  We are the mothers holding our little ones.  We are singing lullabies in the midst of terrible lies.  We are the friend asking if you are okay.  We are banded together to get through another day.  We are silently hiding away our pain.  We are the pastels.  We are the stain.  We are the bloodshot eyes staring at you saying "Everything's just fine."  We push away.  We shove.  We stay.  We sway.  Inches from falling, we are the ones barely standing looking for the calling.  We are the sometimes empty smile, questioning your inchless mile.  We are motionless in a swirling world, as people pass; the parading file.  We are the heavy heart in church.  Holding your hand and listen as you spill your sin.  We are the catching laughter on the passing wind, helping you grin again.  We are the survivors. We are the domestic quantity.  We are the humane quality.  We raced through Hell & if you're patient, our story we will tell.