Engraved

Engraved! We carry the weight that nobody sees,

The silent wars, the broken knees,

The sleepless nights, the endless doubt,

The words we swallow,

never let out.

We wake each morning

and carry on, Though pieces of us

have already gone.

For our mothers, our fathers,

our daughters and sons,

For the battles they face,

for the things yet to come.

Because what are we,

if the memories die?

If nobody remembers the reasons we tried?

If the photographs fade and the old voices cease,

And the family tree loses branch after leaf?

But sometimes I’m frightened there’s nothing ahead,

Just empty old houses and names of the dead.

A family tree, with its branches laid bare,

No one left to whisper,

“I remember them there.” And that thought cuts deeper,

than words can explain,

The fear that our loved ones will be lost through the strain.

That everything we’ve built,

everything we’ve known, Could disappear quickly,

leaving us alone.

Let the old stories live,

let the memories breathe,

Let them carry our names like the roots of a tree.

We’re the hands that held on when the world fell apart,

We’re the names and the stories engraved on the heart.

And if someday my branches are all that remain,

Let somebody remember

I fought through the pain.

So I’ll hold on tonight,

And I’ll rise with the dawn.

For the people I love,

For the people who’ve gone.

Families aren’t only the blood that we share— We’re the love that

they leave, And the proof that they cared.