The Things We Carry

Take a closer look

Do you really know who I am

How can you say you do

When you’ve only taken a glance

You’ve seen what’s on the surface

But not underneath

So how can you say

You really know me

You see the bag on my back

You see the phone in my hands

You see the headphones in my ears

And the glasses my eyes demand

But these are things I have

They don’t make who I am

You don’t see the passion

That burns in my eyes

You don’t see the pain

That I feel I must hide

You don’t see the kindness

That flows through my veins

You don’t see the war

That rages inside my brain

These things that I carry

They eat me alive

But they’re things that I carry

And some aren't even mine

I carry the expectations

My family placed on me

I carry the dreams

My mother never achieved

I carry the standards

Society wants me to reach

But what hurts the most

Is carrying this person

Others want me to be