Weight

He took the blame,
A world insane,
Strapped tight around his back,
The archetype,
For narrow sight,
He’s never coming back,
They told him once,
They told him twice,
He knew better than that,
Though he did good,
Misunderstood,
His city turned its back.

The walk is mine,
My hell, divine,
Though I have made a pact,
I set them free,
They resent me,
I left their minds intact,
He thought as he,
Fell to one knee,
And thus he broke his back,
When no one thought,
Ask why he fought,
You’d hear one tearful fact.

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