Still Here

There are days when I wake up

and the world already feels too loud.

Even the light from the window

seems to ask for more than I can give.

Still, something small keeps me standing.

Maybe it’s hope, maybe it’s habit.

Or maybe it’s just the thought

that tomorrow could act softer than today.

The days go fast, then slow again,

My dreams are near but so far away,

I walk, I fall, I stand up once more,

And wipe away my tear.

And even when I feel like I’m fading,

I know I’m still here; breathing, trying, waiting

for the moment when the sun feels warm again.

Székely Rebeka IX. H