No Atlas

I'm no Atlas, so why do my shoulders always ache?
there's a shrunken old burled-out woman
— my grandmas —
squatting on each, make no mistake
after nearly 50 years of carrying them around
as light as they might be
it feels like I've been all ground down
just another victim of gravity
screw these gifts, dear old ladies
I loved you a lot in life
but your legacy is nothing more
than having to do everything twice
it's not indolence that make me weak
it's the erosion of my bones
I'd love nothing more than to fly and leap
but I'll be down here with the stones.

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