Atlas, My Love

Poem

The burden is heavy,

Isn't it?

'It's the mole on the shoulder'

They whisper,

‘An omen'

The universe echoes,

'Destined to be Atlas

Of their generation'

They fawn and admire.

Skipping grades

Is too easy.

The lamp burns bright

Before it dies, after all.

The medals, the ribbons

Feel too heavy,

Until they are taken

And the neck slowly rots.

The praise is a crown,

The shine in eyes

Tears, but

Happy ones, probably.

The mind waits for

Future failures,

The head bows down.

The gift is still there

Too tired? So breathe.

It's just a phase

Just play for a while,

Call the shots

Nothing too corrupting though,

The globe never trots.

Back in the game, but

Not at the top

What happened? Atlas?

What have you done?

Why don't you try some more?

You need to fly,

The world cares about your fall.

On the knees

The shoulder tense,

Rolling eyes

No place to rest.

Envying Sisyphus,

And his endless hell.

The breath still

The hearts beats.

The smile, always new.

Atlas, my love

You carry their world

But, who carries you?

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