An Ode to Soft Hearts

To softer hearts, whose breath will wait,

To catch the music others miss.

Who are the hush between the storms,

The pause where gentler sorrows kiss.

Where others walk with hardened heels,

You feel the grass beneath your tread.

And mourn the lily’s quiet fall,

As though your very soul had bled.

The ones who lay their armour down,

Lest an arrow goes to waste.

Who treat each soul with care alike,

To spare the few who are still chaste.

Your eyes can read the words unsaid,

Catch cracks in the most graceful mask.

You know who’s walked through days in the dark,

And needs the slightest ray to bask.

Where others leave, they often stay,

And persuade the mighty dams to break.

By witnessing the pour or raining themselves,

Till the waters calm and get over the quake.

And you weep 'cause everything matters,

Each fleck of dust is huge for you.

It is no weakness nor a mistake,

To feel the way sweet, tender hearts do.

The world may deem you foolish, far too kind,

For treating every soul with grace.

But ain’t it better to adorn a thousand scars,

Than scarring an innocent, withering face?

You are no less for everything matters,

And surely not weaker as your core lies bare.

Let them say the strong don’t feel,

But it’s stronger to feel what an unknown heart does bear.