You are broken somewhere
scattered pieces drifting
breath catching for a moment
just to borrow one more second of life.
And still you go on
still you walk beside life
as if it were an old companion.
You nod where others nod
matching their yes with your yes
half whole, half empty
carrying the weight of hollowness.
In night upon night, in day upon day
you balance the scales
paying with silence
with the left fragments of yourself.
I salute you,
for who else keeps moving like this?
If not good, then who is good?
If not you, then who?