They call me failure,
A shadow with nothing to show—
Not knowing the seeds I planted
In the gardens where they grow.
I gave what I had,
Each heartbeat, each breath,
Not for applause,
But to carry them past death.
I built their bridges
From the bones of my spine,
Lit their path forward
While I fell behind.
No trophies, no praise,
Just echoes that fade—
But their triumphs were born
From the price that I paid.
If only they saw
What I chose to release—
Not for my glory,
But to gift them peace.
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