It goes on down,

So much is holding me back, 
since I have to do this 
before I can do that, and so
it goes on
down. 

It's actually harder
to do nothing
than it is 
to do
everything.

As the load of tomorrow 
grows in mind and 
comes each day,
laying piles of sad head
on your shoulder, for one 

of your split-personality 
angels to bear, or dare
to tread in scold, or 

care in console. On my own
heart and head be it! I can't
bear down much, still. It
seems I bear up just a bit
more than most. 

It's a doleful thought, 
when I find such cheer 
as others around me 
crash down, disappear.

Oh, I hurt the most, do 
I? Pah to that hah! Bah
sheep, shoot bulls, I 

don't.  

But I

will bear you up 
in mind and heart, 
for as long as I live, 
all shoulder and art 
and craft of tongue 
and body rush, leg
stance, two is best 
for this one. In
circumstance we
find where 

we've come.