THE LITTLE ATLAS
Her shoulders are too narrow
For the burdens that she bears
Long has she been struggling
Beneath every worldly care
Tattered and so weary;
Alone, she struggles on
She has doggedly been soldiering
For days to come since days foregone.
Trudging ever onward,
With no end in sight,
Through her tears and through her sweat,
She dreams of taking flight.
Of these burdens that weigh her down,
To her not all belong,
But lovingly were taken
From those she knew were not strong.
Her strength, though - it was not enough
And her back, it was too weak
But still she stumbles forward,
And of her pain she does not speak.
For though she took the weights of others,
To help her there is none
And her legs begin to crumble
Beneath the cruel sun.
She slowly sinks unto her knees,
And groans beneath the weight.
She labours long to stand again,
But her exhaustion is too great.
To be or not to be,
Is the question she must now ask;
Do I finally let all this go
Or resume this thankless task?
She strains against her heavy load,
But her will is much too frail
Caving to the ground below,
She allows exhaustion to prevail
Her limbs give one last tremble
And she looks up to the skies
Taking one deep final breath,
She gently shuts her eyes
Fragile and broken; never whole to start
The shoulders of this little Atlas were too narrow for her heart