They cry.

You know what disturbs me? We see them every day; we walk past them, we look at them, and some of us might even glance away and refuse to make eye contact. But mostly, I think we walk away and that is the very worst of all. We walk away not only from them, but from what they stand for. And maybe, we don't even notice them anymore. They are like an image you see in the corner of your eye and then forget about; like a memory that was never fully captured. But I think if you really look them in the eye, like actually take a second and meet their glance, you will see a universe that you never even knew existed. And I think you will never, ever forget the pain you see floating around in that sky, like stars, except they burn out the light and chase away the sun. I am disturbed by the way I get wrapped around my own life and I forget to look around me and see the world of hurting people right outside my front door. Yes, there are thousands of wounded hearts all over the world, but what about the ones that live within our reach? And I am disturbed that we hardly see the pain in their eyes anymore, and that we begin to take their silence for rebellion; when really it is simply a silent cry for help and a slow surrender to defeat. I am haunted by the scars I see in people's eyes and the wounds they bury so deep they think no one will find them, but despite their best efforts they show in every labored step they take. And there are so many people out there; people I find hard to love, the ones who lash out the most, and the ones that hide behind a wall of silence and tears that never show. They are like a cloudy day that never brings any rain, or a mountain peak that never loses the snow that covers the ground. They are the ones who have the potential to love the most, to give back into the world the things given to them, but what do they get? So they go about their lives; thinking they are alone and feeling the weight of the world. And I am so disturbed, because I walk away from them and their pain, choosing to ignore them, and slowly I'm killing their spark and mine. Sometimes I get so involved in my life and my worries, and I don't see those dark circles under their eyes anymore. But since the day I met that boy in the park (it's a long story, maybe I will share it with you one day?) my life has never been the same, and I pray to God that I will never walk away from anyone ever again. Because I can't forget the look in his eyes, or the suffering I saw in them. He opened a door for me that I will never find the way out of, and the burden of defeat he carried will haunt me for the rest of my life. And there are so many people like him all around us; people we don't think deserve second chances, the ones who bristle when we try to help, and the ones who silently cry at night when they think no one can see them. They live in silence and are covered by a cloud of doubt, and I am disturbed because I think we don't care anymore. Maybe if we tried to see them instead of turning away, maybe if we looked into people's eyes without flinching and dared to see the pain that is lurking in the depths. Maybe we can only face other people's problems if we face our own, and maybe by exposing our own wounds we can help heal someone else's. Maybe our own trials are the very thing people will be drawn to, and maybe if we showed them a little mercy instead of walking away, we could change this world one life at a time. I am disturbed that there are so many people who cry and think no one cares.

xx. Amy Jane.