The Hill Poem by Andrew Rose

When people feel depressed
sometimes they get suicidal,
Clinging onto the ledges of emotion
by their finger tips,
No effort is required for release,
Just a summoning of courage,
A deep breath,
And if need be,
A shutting of the eyes,
Then closure.

I am at the opposite end of that spectrum.

My legs are numb
but I am too tired in my mind to feel this exhaustion,
And although I am standing
I long to sit and rest,
But I cannot.

I am positioned at the bottom of a steep hill,
It surrounds me entirely,
It is a place where gravity is my foe,
And I am looking up to see a deep mattress layer,
All around there is a slope,
A slope that I must travel up.

Even if I had the will power,
Or the gusto,
I would still never be able to climb this slope,
The effort needed is too great,
And though I would always try hard
the mechanics are beyond me,
My legs don the weight of so many things right now,
I am just not built the ideal way.