Sitting in a vat of trauma, 
I soak in memories etched deep, 
The echoes of a thousand cries, 
Breaking through the walls of sleep.

Walking in the footsteps of pain, 
Each step heavier than the last, 
The path is worn, the ground is hard, 
By the burdens of a distant past.

Living a deferred dream, 
Hope tethered to the winds of time, 
Reaching, always reaching out, 
For a life once sweet, now stuck in mime.

What is it to sit in the silence, 
Of all the things we’ve yet to be? 
To watch as dreams are pushed aside, 
By the weight of harsh reality?

Yet, still we rise and move ahead, 
Despite the sorrow, despite the fear, 
For within the vat of trauma’s grip, 
The heart still beats, the way is clear.

There’s strength in every whispered tear, 
In the weight of every fall, 
We walk through pain, deferred dreams, 
But we rise — we rise through it all.