They were both heavy footed,
with a lot on their mind.
staying with the grind.
they walk on through.
Slackening, then slow,
as their burden grew.
They kept up their pretense,
not a trace of trouble shown.
Offering to help,
but one's weight was their own.
With the end finally in sight,
they march on,
cajoling each other.
The long last mile now conquered,
emanate cries of holy mother.
Their job now done, the labour-men,
embrace like long forgotten friends.
Having seen the other's burden up close,
they seem to be glad, at how it ends.
Is this not how we all are.
in this winding journey of life?
Burdened, travelling journeymen,
walking others through their strife.
So next time you see somebody,
creaking under their weight,
lend a hand and walk with them,
don't worry about finishing late.