Weighed Down By Sand Bags

Sometimes I like to think about,

How the weight of things,

How the weight of situations,

In our life,


Almost like a bag of sand we carry,

With a small tear at the bottom,

And no matter how desperately,

We try and stop the sand from falling out,

And how stupid we look trying to fill the bag back up,

With our hands tightly gripped,

As to not accidentally drop the bag,

Releasing ourselves from this pain,

This heaviness,

No matter what,

Overtime the weight gets lighter and lighter,

Till there’s no sand left,

Till we feel no weight of the past,

Only left with an empty twine bag,

In the form of a distant memory,

And how at any point,

We could’ve opted to put the bag down,

Let go of the weight we voluntarily carried,

While it’s easier said then done,

It’s possible,

But no matter what,

What they say is true,

Nothing heals like time…

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