I carry heavy hearts,
Souls.

Heavy,
Like unjust scars
Upon the backs of slaves.
Skin unraveled deeper than tissue.
Heavy,
Like the sunken eyes of
Starving children, and
Heavy,
Like cancer, swimming weightlessly
In sapphire blood.
Souls,
Burdened with pain,
A lifetime of hourly suffering,
Until God sets you free.
I ask myself,
Why you?
I ask myself,
Why me?

Bleed in pools of sympathy,
Bleed in rivers of pride,
Poor hearts.
If the sun rises,
And the candle is no longer lit,
The fire has raged on inside me,
Burning endlessly.

Every day I bear
These souls, trying to find
Their own warmth again.
Searching for life,
Thirsting for answers they’ll
Never see.
I ask myself,
Why you?
I ask myself,
Why me?