Everyone carries a little bag full of marbles,
But I didn’t get one.
I have to carry them myself,
And I managed to,
until I realized something,
This is hard to do.
Most people don’t notice
That I didn’t have a bag for my marbles.
Those who did never offered to help me carry them,
All they said was,
“You can handle them, right?”
“You’re fine,
you’ve been able to carry them all your life.”
I’m not fine,
No one ever asked me,
“Do you need help?”
They're too heavy,
I’m tired,
So tired,
I’m exhausted from always having to pick up my marbles,
But I'll say I’m fine.
No one likes a weakling,
But I’m not.
I’m so tired,
And everyone keeps giving me more marbles!
They keep throwing them at me,
And I keep dropping them,
And they keep yelling at me,
“Why can’t you do it?
Your friend can!”
They think I can take them all,
And I used to,
But I’m tired,
I’m tired from doing this every day,
Why me?
I can’t carry them anymore,
So I dropped them.
They scattered all over the floor,
I saw all of the marbles that were hidden
The dirty ones that I’ve forgotten,
At the bottom of the pile,
I forgot I had those, but
I’m done…
Can I finally be free?
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