Burdened Shoulders
I walk through the streets
Carrying bags of stones on my shoulders.
Every now and then, they force me to my knees.
I cannot bear their weight long.
My bones are weary,
My shoulders bruised and cut
By the sharp corners of the rocks against my skin.
My knees - they are scarred, scraped and muddy,
And the wounds are filled with pebbles glued in with dried blood.
The ground is unforgiving.
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