Atlas

My shoulders broad, I can carry much.
Sticks and stones and dirt and such
Ideas that cross my mind.
Still I can carry more,
Your secrets, burdens, wishes for
The future, though the now unkind.

Sometimes the world weighs me down-
I'm Atlas with a groaning sound,
Though it passes if you wait.
Each item gone relieves some strain,
But I'd have your troubles back again-
Your absence bears a greater weight.