the world has grown thick-skinned to the cries that don’t trend
to the girl sleeping cold, to the boy with no friend
It scrolls past the sorrow if the filter’s not right
then gasps in confusion when it feels the night

it hears the gunshots through headlines and static
then turns up the music, calls grief too dramatic
it mocks the worn silence of those torn apart
then begs for soft shoulders when it breaks its heart

it calls others "too much" for their wounds left exposed
yet pleads for compassion when its own doors are closed
it shrugs off the weeping of war battered lands
but shakes when the storm touches its own hands

numb to the mothers who bury their sons
the prayers left unanswered, the damage long done
but when its light dims, when its sky goes grey
suddenly pain deserves more than a day

suddenly, tears mean something profound
suddenly, silence should echo with sound
suddenly, justice feels urgent and new
but only when pain knocks on its view

it’s easy to watch when the flames aren’t your own
to call someone bitter when you’ve never known
what it’s like to scream and be met with a wall
to fall in the dark with no one to call

so spare me the outrage when your wounds appear
we’ve lived lifetimes ignored, voiceless and clear
we are the sirens you silenced for years
now watching you tremble through your first tears

maybe now you will understand
why we never reached out to an unfeeling hand
why we learned to carry our pain in disguise
because the world only listens when it cries