Carrying 1,000 Words

Strapped to my back are words
My shoulder blades twitch, my spinal column aches
I want nothing more than to drop the lot
and lay down to rest

But they were entrusted to me, you see

So I carry and care for them,
worry and wait for the ones to come
From your lips to my back, I keep moving
I am carrying us up the road,
around the next bend,
over this hovering hill
to a place you've never been before

But I have
I know the way
It's what I do

Follow me up
and when we get to the top
I will hand back those heavy, precious words
and you will see just how far you've come

The issue being (of course)
what so caustically and casually falls from your pens
is my burden to hold

So when I say, dear students,
choose your words wisely,
I mean that quite literally

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