Heart to Heavy; Can't Carry

My heart is heavy with stones of sorrow.

My eyes pain to much to look towards tomorrow.

Stones secretly, carefully concealed in my soul.

To think I was wise was the vision of a fool.

To heal my wounds, everyone prescribes a different book.

But the hardback truth, is that I'm too weak to take a look.

My failure and disappointment stare me in the face and make me feel like a convict in his shackles of disgrace.

Continuing to run the race, as I wait for my pardon on death row.

I pinch my cheeks and carry my drowned rosy handkerchief in tow.

One must look ones best to play the part.

But my walk slows to a crawl with all these stones in my heart.

By: Heather Alaine Smith