The world weighs heavy on my soul.
It screams out in pain.
Can’t you hear it?
Can’t you hear it calling for release?
Screams that echo into the void,
For words are far too small to contain
Such a tempest of grief.
These tears I shed
I shed for its cries
And the cries of all the millions
Who call this world home:
“It’s not supposed to be like this.
That’s not what they taught us.
It’s not what they promised.”
The liquid salt drops from my eyes
In rhythm to that discordant chorus.
My soul is heavy with the
Weight of the world,
For I am just one person
And there is so much hurt to heal.
(Author’s Note: I actually wrote this poem last year, giving it the oh-so-original title of “2016”. While I don’t recall which specific tragedies prompted its creation – there have been so many, after all – I really wish it would stop feeling so relevant so much of the time.)