What rests on these shoulders
are dusty and new burdens
that each shoulder baggage of their own.
And, though the new year
rings in a new spring
and a renewed spring cleaning,
the ties that bind one to this earth
remind of more that can be carried.
And though my feet are weary
and every morning I wake up
in a foreign place with my soul
tearing into smaller pieces,
I smile and laugh in the pain
and offer my shoulder, again,
for another to rest on.
Chaos of Life 