It's a poem kind of day...

Carrying a load of bricks on my back, 
so far, so long.
Everything in me aches,
tired, sore, very nearly broken.
No matter how many times I readjust,
can't get comfortable, no relief
from the wary feeling, the pain
of carrying so much weight.
One for mothers, one for fathers,
one for each mistake, each regret,
each heartache, each unmet need.
Bricks, and bricks, and bricks
Until I fall to my knees and stare at the sky,
The sun so warming on my face.
Has the sky always been so beautiful,
so blue?
Slip one arm free of the satchel, 
then the other.
A thud, and then relief.
Finally stretching my unencumbered body,
finally free.