I say nothing is heavier
then it’s fifteen to ten
pounds,
as I stuff it in
a backpack
for carrying
to stare at the air
of deep despair
there in.

Photo after photo
clicking and clacking
with predatory pain
that is ready to claim
my comfort,
ready to strain
this tired brain
with the terror
of its truths.

After days
of lugging it around
I have found
the one thing heavier
is the horror
of enlightenment
that resides
behind the page.

The way
it burrows
within
my skin
to the source
of my emotions
and makes me feel
something more
for the suffering
children
who are starving,
the poverty stricken
oppressed by
wars of hate, and greed,
wars that partially stem
from various religions.