Writing Resources from Fifteen Minutes of Fiction

Touching Your Pain

I see the crushing weight upon your shoulders;
But cannot feel it.
I hear your harsh, discordant tones of grief;
But cannot feel it.
I smell the fetid rage upon your breath;
But cannot feel it.
I taste the bitter gall of your betrayals and despair;
But cannot feel it.
These four senses give so much,
Yet so little they return.

If in trading sight and sound,
Taste and smell,
I could reach your pain and touch it,
Then I would trade my eyes and ears,
My mouth and nose,
For hands to touch your pain and feel it.
Then blind and deaf,
Of all other sense bereft,
I would feel your pain,
And I would soothe it.

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