(Atlas, world on his shoulders)
Heavy is the head
Heavy is the hand
Heavy is the weight that pulls down the chin
Heavy is life
And heavy is the laughter
Riddled with strife
No hope of life after
Time passes slow
The body grows thin
Trapped within the walls of my own mental pen
Wanting to escape
But not knowing how
Faking each grin
Keep pulling that plow
Building with sand
But I’m trying my best
I know it won’t stand
This life is a jest
The wave comes fast
And it comes out of nowhere
To wash it all away
So why should I still care
Heavy is the head
And heavy is the sand
Heavy is the truth
As it returns to the land
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About the Creator
Q. F. Stewart
Writing helps me analyze myself, seeing my feelings on paper helps me understand them. I hope to reach those who relate to my writings, you’re not alone, it gets better.
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