Baggage and more
Don’t try to lay that on me
Don’t saddle me with your heaviness
You are carrying rocks in your bag
What makes you think I want to carry that on my back?
A dozen and one lies in a pocket
And a Roman Coliseum
Where you pit everyone for your blood sport
Someone will turn the ring inside out
Your bags are falling apart
And I cannot bandage them up
I am not here to prop you up
I am not here to be your porter
Carry your own rotted plants
Pull your own rock-saddled wheels
When you can be one with the truth
I will, in tien, be your rock
Categories: Culture, identity, mental health, Poetry, Psychology
Impressive verses to put the truth ahead. Very good the poem.
Great double-meaning, I enjoyed this very much.
thank you. Cheers