Resiliance

While they were strong, they overestimated. The tiredness spread ‘til they felt sedated. In the beginning, they were taught what to expect; Yet, in the end, they carried on ‘til they wept.

No well-intentioned advice or careful instruction

Could prepare them for this chaotic production. They pretended to remain unperturbed, But inside they were disturbed.

They start their day, burdened by heavy eyes. Their only solace is one look to the skies. The ones they meet tell them, “I am beat. Are you sure this is something you can treat?”

Every day they think, The world puts too much on my shoulders. Why did I think I could be one of these soldiers?

In my world, sickness is normalized. This is the thing I did not want immortalized.

But amongst the uncertainty, exhaustion, and pain, They remind themselves of their mantra again: I am here to be the caretaker.

It is not their time to meet the maker.

Nisha Ali Graduate Student Rutgers School of Graduate Studies