As it should be, we never crossed each other’s shore.
We never stepped across that line, we never reached that door.
Though the world’s grown small, the distance still remains somehow.
Life had other plans, a different path to show us now.
I’m just a quiet whisper on a page in the night.
This silence is my armor, holding tight.
It shields me from the light I don’t need to see.
The quiet of the unread lines gives strength to me.
Five jobs this year—the days just slip away, it’s true.
Would I stay where truth is twisted? No, I’d walk right through.
I know the team you cheer for—that’s one real thing I know.
But I’m almost glad you’ll never feel the weight I hold.
You’re on the bright stage, far from where I stand.
I stay in the shadows, pen in hand, heart in hand.
Maybe this divide was always meant to be.
Two separate stories, walking side by side, free.
August 2026
Unread Lines
© Copyright: Ольга Владимировна Львова, 2026
Свидетельство о публикации №126081507961
Свидетельство о публикации №126081507961
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