Author's Note: We all have baggage that we carry. Although we all have different kinds of crap that we carry it's there all the same. But we never have to carry it by ourselves. I hope this poem helps you realize that maybe the person you least expect is ready to carry you and everything that comes with you at the drop of a hat.
The Weight
This weight that I carry is heavy and hard.
As sturdy as bricks,
yet as uneven as boulders.
I haul this luggage for years and years.
Past crumbling buildings and scorched forests burnt to ash.
Under vast oceans as blue as sapphires,
Through gardens full of thorns,
Over sloping mountains covered in snow and wheat fields as tall as skyscrapers,
I carry my burdens for as long as I can.
I want to stop.
I need to stop.
But I keep going anyways.
Because since I have carried this weight for so long I have forgotten it's even there.
Eventually I crash.
As fast and explosive as a car crash I fall to my knees dripping in blood and tears.
There's no way I can simply fix this with tacky glue or replace long lost parts that have been missing for years.
Still I try to stand, knowing that if I fall at least it will be over.
But as I do I feel a hand placed on my shoulder, soft and warm.
The hand gently pulls me off the ground to the point where I am yet again standing.
I brush the dust off my knees and as I do the hand slowly but surely pulls a cement block off my shoulders.
The hand continues to do so until she has over half of my blocks.
She points forward, towards a open field and bright sky.
Once we get there we dump every single brick and stone that has ever claimed a spot on my spine.
She pulls a baseball bat out of the small pack she carries and hands the bat to me.
She gingerly wraps my fingers around the base of the bat and smiles at me.
I nod gratefully in response and she takes a few steps back as I walk right up the pile of rubble in front of me.
With all of my might I smash and throw the bricks, rocks, and boulders until there is nothing but dirt.
Even that is blown away by the gentle breeze flowing through the air.
I drop the bat with a sigh and walk out to my unnamed rescuer who stand there with open arms.
She pulls me into her, enveloping me in the warmth of the sun and the light of the moon.
My arms squeeze back as tight as they can but eventually go limp, finally feeling the freedom of letting go.
I take my friend's right hand gripping it tight and we both walk towards the unknown together, but without the weight of the world on my shoulders.
We can carry our burdens alone or walk in the dark without a flashlight but we never have to.
