Loads

My feet feel like they’ve walked 1000 miles

In shoes made of inch thick lead.

The load they feel they’ve carried

Is often in my head.

 

I am so often envious

Of people who can let things fly

It seems to me that unlike some others

I carry loads that I cannot let die.

 

I worry about some stupid things

Things I cannot control

I toss and turn and squirm

Thoughts tunnelling in to brain like a mole.

 

 

I worry too much about my students

And how they fare at night

The empty of love table

Of all the bad things that might

 

I sometimes give to much of me

To those who do not care

And some I wish I could take home

And parent them, I wish I dared.

 

The tales that could be told

Of students struggling to find

A life that they can live

A life that is just a little kind.

 

These stories I do carry

And it is not good for me

I try to let the stories go

But they will not leave me be.