It’s killing you, I can see it in your eyes.
The pain and suffering that you endure every night.
You’re holding on though, not for your sake, but for your son.
You’re trying to be strong.

You’re telling yourself that this is just a rough patch that life has decided to deal you.

“I’ll make it through”, I hear you whisper to yourself every day.
I wish there was something I could do to help take away the pain.
I wish I could just whisper “Leave us alone” and like magic, the pain will slowly subside.
I wish I could do a lot of things to help ease your suffering, but truth be told,

I can’t.

I’m over here asking how I’m to cope with your sickness, when you’re the one actually suffering.
I can’t imagine the thoughts going through your head as you’re lying in bed bleeding out.
I cry myself to sleep at night, trying not to ask God why,
My faith is in God, and always will be,

Though

Sometimes I can’t help, but wonder why we were dealt these cards.