Tyler G Dec 2012
I carry the shallow weight of my own regrets.
I carry the guilt of my mother who felt she could’ve done more for my grandmother.
Nights spent, teary-eyed phone calls to the nursing home.
I carry the comprehension of my father.
Hundreds of times he’s defeated me at chess, at card games.
I am his knowledge.
I carry sorrow from soccer games lost and triumph from games won with the stench of wet grass and caked on mud still fresh in my memory.

I carry the weight of high school, the pressure to get into college, the weight of rumors and the regret of not paying attention in class.
Feeling hopeless and defeated when I fail a test, though I remember I can carry the power of success.
I carry the daily jeers and spite of my peers and my teachers.
I carry the burden of my mother’s size eight firmly up my ass when I don’t do what I’m told.
I carry three-day weekends and the joy of a snow day.

I carry my blood, my veins, my organs.
I carry my bones, my cartilage, my flesh and my hair.
I carry my beating heart and the sound it makes letting everyone around me and myself to know that I’m still very much alive.
I carry the ability of perfect hindsight vision, the ability of blind foresight.

I carry my friends, the pressure of their own burdens.
I own the ability to make them smile, the ability to cheer them up when I don’t know how to help myself.
I’ve carried some of them for as long as I can remember; some I can’t carry anymore, and some I’ve just started to carry.

I carry love and passion; I carry hate and abhor.
I carry confusion, delirium, nostalgia of days past.
I carry insomnia and sleepless nights dreaming up at my ceiling of life to come.
I carry my dreams, both physical and mental.
I carry what I aspire to be.
I carry photography, a story of my life through pictures, through captivity, through still frame.
I carry my wishes.

I carry the beach, the waves that crash down onto the shore and onto me and the salty residue that lands on my flesh and hair from staying out too long.

I carry stupidity, I carry charm and I carry luck.
I carry the regret of anonymity and the fear of being alone.
We all carry that; no one wants to spend life alone.
We carry expensive wedding bands and the pressure to say “Yes” and the hope that she’ll say it.

I carry the everlasting gaze of older relatives, some who have passed on to a better world.
They won’t have to carry anything anymore.

I carry countless vacations and holidays spent with my cousins and the millions of laughs we have shared.

I carry reminiscences of vacations and of meeting new people, people who I tried to stay in contact with, but alas, distance prevents friendship.
I carry the knowledge of the traveled world and the confusion of the uninhabited, undiscovered land.
I am a world traveler, I am a superhero; I am what I want to be and I carry that.

I carry a tainted mind.
A mind spoiled by politics, by war, greed and corruption of not only the government, but of my parents as well.
I carry the ignorance of thinking I’m right and everyone else is wrong, the false sense that I know what is really going on in the world and that I, and I alone, can make a difference.

I carry the benefit of living in a prosperous nation, a flourishing town.
I carry the thought of uncertainty of impoverish nations and how they live everyday without food and water, while I sit here and type on my own personal laptop.

I carry teenage angst.
I carry thoughts and memories of former lovers.
Some girls who have grown up to be different than what they once were, some who haven’t changed a bit.
I carry the thoughts of wonder, should I have said something to her?

I carry individualism, not being afraid of letting you know who I am and what I do.
I am myself and if you can’t deal with it then you won’t have to carry me anymore.
I no longer carry these words; my thought have been poured onto this paper.
My future holds the risk of not knowing what I will carry tomorrow, but I know I will carry life.
I know I may not be able to carry this all, but one thing is for certain: I will carry myself.
blythe Jan 2014
When we feel sorrow,        
When we've gone through unbearable pains,
When we're already on the verge of giving up,
When our hope was lost,
Always try to remember
The very reason why we struggled;
Our purpose and our dreams;
That would give us the strength
We need to carry on and still pursue.
These challenges and hardships will soon pass;
We must not see them as hindrances  
But rather tools to make us stronger
And to bring the best out of us.
Always look at the positive side of things and always hope for the best :)
Challenges are set before us to make a better person out of us and not to break us. ^_^
Sarah Spang Feb 2016
I worry
For the unmoving mountain
Unable to move an inch
In the midst of an earthquake.
The shaking ground
Does not mean to destroy it
But it cannot be helped
When some things
Are just so obstinate.
They must survive
Or crumble.

The earth is changing beneath us all.
When the dust has settled,
Nothing will ever be the same.
Fall apart or carry on.
lluvia de abril Jan 2016
I don’t know if you know
I carry you
in an involuntary sigh
in a constant exodus of yearning
and in the frantic deepness of all
nostalgic thought, shaking time and distance
to place me near you
in the closeness of your warmth

I carry you in sorrow
in the absence of your voice
and in the memory of your rib cage molded
in the shape of ardent weakness
my embrace

I carry you, the braille at the tip of my fingers
life drawn in lines on my left palm
and in the carcass of calm interrupted
by the pounding of a heart’s ill-time

I don't know if you know, but
I carry you in the crown of memories consoled
and in the spine of excess
where I fall, between involuntary sighs
in your skin remembered
from the confines
of the heart
On a night...just a night.
We must find the love
inside ourselves
to carry on.
Life is hard. We falter and we fall, but that does not mean to give up. We must dig deep and find the love inside ourselves to keeping going.
Madisen Kuhn May 2013
your words were so lovely
that i never once doubted them,
i couldn’t hear the emptiness
or read into the sugar coated lies
masquerading as sincere promises

i wrote them in cursive
and dotted the i’s with little hearts,
counting on the vows to hold weight

but when i finally tested them
by throwing your “forevers” into the ocean,
they did not sink to the bottom,
instead they floated right on the surface

your guarantees
were like funhouse mirrors,
i ran in one direction
thinking it was leading me
to where i needed to be,
but i came to a dead end,
trapped and broken hearted
with your voice echoing somewhere
“i cannot mend it”

i will not let my journal
turn into pitiful pages
filled with only your name

i will carry on,
bruised by your half-truths
and with eyes full of hope,
Odi Nov 2011
I know it's heavy, the burden you carry,
But it's yours, and yours alone,
I know you’re tired, eyes weary,
But carry on, carry on.

So rest your heavy head,
On my comforting sleeve,
And as for that meddling heart,
Let it bleed, Let it bleed.

I'm amazed at how,
Your fragile bones don’t break,
Under that crippling weight,
That you have to carry alone,
But you must, so carry on,
Carry on.
I am a vessel
waiting to be filled with doubts and reason
waiting to hear the songs that wave in the atmosphere
let your influence flow so that we all can pollute our seasons

without a blend of innocence and curiosity
you cannot have clay that molds to your liking
at least not to your tasteless velocity
rushing away any thought of magic

at one point nothing needed definition
life was all and pure to the touch
connection gave us premonition
to a universe of one

Downwards is the direction of a new soul
to land and welcome the progress
purpose and destiny do not have their hold
for we question instead of taking the chance to cherish

Now a war exists to fight for the past
while building a narcissistic future
we grudge and we pride in a false ability to last
when the cycle and spiral is infinite

we are dust for now
energy to be
a dimensional vow
spoken continuously

I am a vessel
**Faded Fate**
Concealed Carry can sometimes cause
More problems then its worth
If every time that you need
You always use it first

You're not supposed to stop and think
Of the fear that you may have
The pain that's caused by others
Is simply not allowed to last

Concealed Carry is hard to hide
When it always stays with you
It becomes the thing that you use most
When you dont know what to do

Concealed Carry might just be
The worst thing you can use
You should always try to talk things out
And do whats best for you

When you Conceal Carry feelings
And do not set them free
They become the worst of weapons
And can drop you to your knees

Concealed Carry can sometimes cause
More problems then its worth
If every time that you need
You always use it first

**Carl Joseph Roberts
Im a cop so no gun fanatics about our rights to carry. I carry and I believe you have the same right as long as we all abide by the same laws there should be no problem. Its the crazy ones who carry that worry me but i hope that I or a fellow conceal carry will be there if that were to happen. Ok, my rant is over and my poem was not about any of that I just didnt want to get the hate mail from the far right. Im right in the middle on most issues.
Dana Colgan Dec 2015
Miles of road ahead of her,
With miles and miles behind.

Exhausted from the journey,
All aid and kindness declined.

Clouds above get darker,
Where once the sun shined.

On and on she will travel,
Until all becomes aligned.
Harsh Aug 2015
Tim O'Brien had the right idea
about carrying people and ideas;
we all have experiences that live within us
like a stain on our grey matter.

I carry with me every insult hurled at me,
caught by my web of sensitivity;
I lift them onto my shoulders,
my back creaking as I trudge on.

My insecurities are shackles at my ankles,
the chains tangling themselves and chafing my legs;
my knees knock and pop and shake,
my back creaks and groans.

The ghosts and spirits of the self-departed
dance their ethereal ballet about my soul
and howl their eerie opera through the night,
begging for forgiveness and understanding.

The heaviness of the future rests
inside the caverns of my cranium,
latching on to my thoughts
and chipping at my hopes.

Past loves plague our emotions
and rest in the deepest corners of our hearts,
reminding us of who we once were
and asking us what could have been.

A cloud of sadness condenses in my body,
little drops of dejection slide down my lungs.
My chest constricts and grows heavy
and pointlessly hopes to see the sun.

Everyone together carries the weight of the world,
but I'm not sure what is heavier:
the mass of the planet,
or the things its people carry.
Inspired by Tim O'Brien's book entitled "The Things They Carried" and  http://everybookisaquotation.tumblr.com/post/107062246764/tell-me-atlas-what-is-heavier-the-world-or
Ashley Somebody Jun 2014
The weight was too much:
I despaired until I saw
I was meant to fail.
For when I try carrying,
I cannot lift as You can.
Dust Bowl Jan 2015
I carry my backpack, and the addition thirty pounds of stress that goes along with it.
I carry an MP3 player, filled with 1500 songs that make more sense to me than any math lesson ever has.
I carry a necklace from the 1800's that no one in my family cares enough about to remember who it originally belonged to. We both carry the feeling of being passed along.
I carry a notebook with letters I'll never have the nerve to send. I carry a pen that's been through more with me than any of my friends.
I carry my scraped knees and a tendency to fall to the waste side.
I carry my father's temper like a hot coal in the pit of my stomach. I carry his high expectations and my mother's victim complex. All three of which are, apparently, hereditary.
I carry Chapstick, Neosporin, and band-aids. Because things crack, and things break, and some things tend to cut.
I carry the same mindset as an Oxford comma and a worry of being replaced. We both carry the feeling of not really mattering.
I carry my uncle's divorce, & the way we buried him only a year after the papers were signed. I carry the way his ex wife's grudge is stronger than her children's love for their family.
I carry the dream catcher my dad keeps in his room, the one I got rid of years ago when I realized nothing would keep my nightmares away.
I carry the time my hero had his heart broken and spent the next year at the bottom of a bottle.
I carry the headstone that marks the beginning of my abandonment issues.
I carry a .037 fl oz tube of eyeliner in the hopes that no one will mess with a girl who always looks like she has two black eyes.
I carry a pre-med major that will never make me as happy as it will make my parents. I carry my family's hopes on my back & the way I feel like an emergency room with no more room left for patients.
I carry my best friend's name like an obituary I never got to read. I carry the way his head hit his windshield faster than it ever hit my lap, and the way I've hated sitting in the driver's seat ever since. I carry the way I never want to be invited to another funeral & the way each body they've buried makes me feel like I'm already 6 feet under.
I carry the mattress I slept on as a child. Pink flowers & blue satin & cold sweats detergent couldn't fade. The one I spent an entire afternoon scrubbing bloodstains out of, hoping my mother wouldn't notice when she changed the sheets. She never did, or at least she never asked, and sometimes I still wish she had.
I carry how my friend thinks her high school boyfriend breaking up with her is the worst that could happen, and the way I hope she always does.
A response to "The Things They Carried" by Tim O'Brien (a book I HIGHLY recommend).
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