The burden of experience

The wheels wishing surrender keep turning
circling the earth with strength
Here I sit upon the lawns of the prodigal
hoping to conserve a piece of myself

If I could climb the tallest of mountaintops
wade through the deepest of murky ocean waters
I would have little but cold and wet skin
as a memory of the experience

The steps taken to tread the world
to rid the self of misery and misfortune
leave blisters upon the hearts of the travelers
unnoticed by the bodies of the suffering

I am numbed to the touch
to the feelings holding onto the grave
for those who brave the darkness of the forest at midnight
are those who see the trees as clear as day

One thought on “The burden of experience

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