Troubles: A Poem

Tired,

I'm so tired,

And weary,

From carrying all my troubles,

But if I should pause to rest,

Don't touch them if I set them down,

They are mine to carry,

Not yours,

Still, I look ahead,

And not behind,

With my heavy burden,

Weighing me down,

Now, I've almost reached the top,

Just a few steps more,

I can see a brightness up ahead,

I hope it's the radiance of relief and brilliant rays from the sun.