some things
aren’t meant to be known
by man

but when a man
picks one of those
up,
or rather,
when they are dropped upon him,
usually in the most arbitrary of
moments,
he must then carry it
with him
for the rest of his
life

he will bear this weight,
and for some,
it will be too much,
breaking their backs
as well as their wills,
and leaving them to writhe on the floor
until death comes

but for others,
those like me,
we bear the weight
without strain,
looking only downward
at the road ahead

and our backs will not break
despite their cries for that fate,
and our wills will not crumble
despite the failure of the inner
columns to remain upright
and sturdy

those men,
with the weight
of a secret world
on their shoulders,
will march through their lives
looking no different than the man
not burdened with the
truth