Quiet Strength: When Peace is a Shield

Again a step of introduction,

again the same starting point.

I wonder if I have the strength

to be gentle as I am,

while I carry a storm inside.

I must present myself nicely,

calm, polite,

as if nothing burns beneath the skin,

as if I am not angry at you

for leaving

and leaving me to explain again

what you already knew.

Now I stand before other doors,

because I need help

and because I have no choice.

And again I learn how to breathe

without support.

Life has taught me:

this is not the first time

that even when I am right

I must be calm,

while proving my innocence.

It is not the first time

I carry justice in my hands

like fragile glass,

careful not to break it

while everyone questions it.

And that is why I will be composed.

And that is why I will be silent.

Not because I am not hurt,

but because I know

that sometimes strength

must look like peace.