Anonymous · poem
July 21, 2026 · under a minute
I used to hope for gentler people.
Now I try to be one.
To listen without fixing.
To speak without sharpening.
To stay without needing anyone
to become smaller for me.
Let me be, on my best days,
the kind of quiet someone else has been praying for.
Acknowledge — one at a time, silently
No replies. No reactions. Only these four.
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