Treading is what people often do,
Just trying to keep the head above water,
Struggling to stay afloat
With no surcease in sight.
Often alone with no one to say a kind word
Or offer a helping hand.
They are all around us,
Passing our way on the street,
Yet often they are not seen
Since it is hidden away.
Their hearts heavy laden
With life’s burdens;
They are often experienced as a pest
To be avoided,
Since to truly see what is underneath
Would be too disturbing
So each is left alone,
Not knowing how to ask for help,
To let others in,
Until the day comes and fatigue overwhelms,
They sink beneath the waves.
All that is left is a slight ripple,
An absence quickly forgotten,
Perhaps relief that the disturbance is gone to bother no more,
Until the ones disturbed
Began to tread;
Then they understand and mourn.