They do not know.

The morning light is too bright.

It doesn’t hide the eyes of almost strangers,
Judging
Or wondering
Or guessing
They know but they don’t.
They know the aftermath,
The conclusion and the consequences,
The losses,
But they don’t know the fights and the battles and the constant fear and anxieties,
Living a prisoner in the place you’re supposed to call home.
The place that’s supposed to be safe.
The sleepless nights and running for your life.
The don’t know the stresses and the worries
The terror,
The pain endured every single day.

They don’t know the patience

They see what they see but not beyond.
So they judge
Or wonder
Or guess
But they do not know.

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