Weight

Living is arduous. 

I feel the weight.  

It makes it hard 

to hold my head up. 

My thoughts are burdensome. 

My shoulders slump.

It settles in my lungs, 

affecting my breathing. 

My stomach feels weighted. 

My hips are leadened. 

My legs are heavy. 

My hands and feet —

shackled. 

Life already feels like death. 

The internal optimist 

is crying for hope—

but that is another work. 

© Ron Simpson Jr.