I see her slowly losing her brightness,
but it is still her—
just not the hopeful one.
It breaks me to say it,
but it is the truth.
She tries to hold on for us.
But I see her losing faith,
in everything.
The man who can hear her
doesn't see her pain.
The child who can see her pain
can't help her.
A child in an ordinary household
is a victim.
The child hides their own pain,
even though he can see himself
growing thinner each day.
But he says not a single word to either of them.
What can he say?
He wants to do
whatever he can
to help.