Weighing You Down Poem by Maya Hanson

Hold our hands as stepping stones
and take your destined spot
at the top of the hill.

I'm not on the pedestal
closing my eyes as you kiss me,
gifting me with
some of the glory.

Our names are
not on the trophy.

Our bare feet don't
ever touch the perfect grass.

Of course
we're the ones
weighing you down.

Who else would
never leave this town?

You're on to
There,
a walk across the ocean,
a leap farther than
we can imagine.

Who are we
to mess with fate?

But we hang from
little strings
glued to your fingers,
dragging your feet,
plaguing your existence.

Of course
we're the ones
weighing you down.