Hang it on the Hook

Shame, a heavy burden we bear,

A weight that's hard for a child to share.

Small handfuls in pockets, like hidden tears,

Innocence lost, adding to your fears.

Pockets deep, trousers seldom washed,

A caustic mixture, into them squashed.

With time, the load becomes too great,

A backpack worn, a heavy fate.

In childhood days, the shame did cling,

Sprinkles, cupfuls, like a song they'd sing.

Bags of burden, too heavy to hold,

Weighing you down, turning hearts cold.

Schoolwork lost, lunch box misplaced,

As the shame grows, you feel disgraced.

At home, others carry their own load,

Handbags of secrets, in silence they're stowed.

You fling yours aside, pay it no heed,

But it's always there, an unwanted seed.

Morning comes, you fill up your tanks,

Dressing up, in silent thanks.

Velcro shoes, no laces to tie,

You search for your backpack, wondering why.

It feels lighter, but it's still there,

Counting spoonfuls, the weight to bear.

In class, you hang it on a hook,

Empty your pockets, a careful look.

Will they be like that at 3 pm

Or does the pattern repeat

Again and again