Why don’t you go easy on me, 
Life… why don’t you? 
It’s the same old Sunday night, 
and my chest grows tighter, tighter.

The same old Sunday night— 
but I’m not hoping for a Monday 
on the other end of my blink. 
Work stacks up— 
a weight beyond what even a camel can bear.

Capitalism never bothers. 
Corporate never flinches. 
I stand in the center, 
bound by threads 
pulling me apart, day by day.

I shed my skin, showed my bones. 
But all eyes turned blind— 
because I’m known 
as the camel 
built to carry and wither.

They said: You’re built to bear the world. 
Am I? 
Because I feel no joy for tomorrow. 

I know the world is unfair— 
and I’m just here, 
to bear someone else’s burden.
I know the world is cruel. 
It turns blind to pain.

Acknowledgment is a mirage
while the cunning and capable 
succumb to the rules of the filthy.

The More More More— 
I do. 
The More More More— 
they ask, What did you even do?

The More More More— 
where I’m expected to juggle like a baboon. 
The More More More— 
and I find my legs pulled 
under the quicksand.

–A Solivagant’s Shoes