Weight of the world

I tried carrying it

I tried carrying the weight of the world of my shoulders

I was walking slow

my feet deeper into mud

There were people all around me

throwing more things on the heap I was carrying on my shoulders

I met men who are completely empty

with a happy public face

covering the deepest sadness I have ever seen.

I met women who would rather throw themselves into that sadness

for their pain of seeing inside themselves was unbearable

selling their soul rather than looking at it and learning to heal,

to love it.

That takes courage and humility.

But I fell into it too.


I was kicked and pushed

yelled at, criticized, asked to run

when I was already out of breath.


Was I wrong in trying to carry it all ?

Was I wrong in denying myself,

The need for help and love ?


Who was that "I" unheard and unseen

by sick men and women ?