My shoulders carry the weight,
of generations past,
the effort of those who struggled,
to provide the life I now possess.
My hands bear the calluses,
of those who labored,
to keep my brow free from heaviness.
And yet,
my feet refuse to move,
as I stand motionless,
overwhelmed,
by the blank page they have set before me,
my own struggle amplified,
by the silence of my own existence.
May 1
May 1, 2026 at 4:51 PM UTC
I see the dusk in the dawn.
I see everything, all at once.
The young girl skipping stones,
and across the same lake,
the old woman that stares into the depths below.
I see the nightingales,
flying in the dimming sky,
but hear the morning lark's call,
beckoning the start of the same day,
at whose closure I now stand,
dusky hues imitating the dawn.
May 1
May 1, 2026 at 4:45 PM UTC