loyd.net

The curse lies heavily upon me.
Sometimes I feel its weight on my shoulders—
A heavy yoke.
No, not a yoke, but birds of prey
Perching, grasping.
At other times, waiting, circling,
Patient, and certain of my doom.
My constant companions, and almost friends:
Anxiety and Responsibility.
One makes me strive for the important,
The other troubles me with the necessary:
And therein lies the curse.

Myself revisited Portraits The strain of being seen