There was a time, at age fifteen,
At the bottom of a hill
I stared up to the top and thought,
"I could use a little thrill."

My baggage I carried in my right hand,
Bearing a friend's in my left -
Others had also burdened me so;
I carried this on my back.

The journey had been hard before,
It had its ups and downs
But a calm voice spoke in the back of my head
Whenever I had any doubts.

I took a step in front of me,
Single, but even still,
The weight I carried at every end
Had heavied on the hill.

I didn't care, and without thought,
I took another step
And slowly I began to climb -
A trip I soon would dread.

Step by step, I traveled up
(It was not a steady pace).
My hands, they shook, and beads of sweat
Had dribbled down my face.

I tripped not once, not twice, but three,
Yet I managed to stand and go on.
But each time I fell, the burdens I carried
Grew heavier and heavier thereon.

Most of the baggage that I held
Was anything but necessary,
But I did not leave a thing behind
When, for a friend, I carried.

My shoulders ached and screamed with pain,
I wished to ease my back,
But then I'd have to stop and let go
Of the burden on my left.

"I need not worry," I told myself,
"Not much longer should I go.
"If only I ignore the pain,
"I'll reach the top." Although

I soon found out, though hard I tried,
The pain had failed to cease
And without thought, my knees gave in;
I fell as they released.

I sat there, stuck, in shock and pain.
No matter how hard I tried,
The more I thought, the more I felt pain.
Suddenly, I began to cry.

The tears kept flowing, fast and faster,
My thoughts were racing still.
Why ever did I dare to climb
What only made me ill?

It was impossible to deny,
My right hand was quite strong.
My burden alone wasn't too hard to bear,
Why not just carry it along?

But then the others crossed my mind,
My left hand and back both mattered,
For surely, I should aid my friend.
My back only made me sadder.

On my back, I carried the things
The people of my past had left:
The things they said, the judgements they gave -
I carried what made me stressed.

I knew nothing on my back was wanted,
It carried a useless creation.
I also knew, or so I thought,
I needed its motivation.

Yes, I cared what those around thought.
Yes, they ruled my life.
I cared because I just wanted friends.
I cared with all of my might.

So despite my loss of energy,
I struggled to my feet.
Exhaustion flooded through my legs;
They seemed to absorb more heat.

Step by step, I traveled up,
Though I felt I'd been dipped in tar.
My feet were bruised, I struggled to walk -
I knew I'd gone too far.

For the fifth time, I fell back down;
In pain, I let out a groan
I had to make it, but deep down, I knew
That I couldn't on my own.

And just as I'd lost all hope and joy,
A hand stretched out to me.
"Come on," they said. "I'll help you up.
"I know you can do it! You'll see."

I took their hand and stood once more,
The weight as heavy as ever,
But to my surprise, they began to lose weight
As the traveler aided my endeavors.

Step by step, we traveled up,
My back was light and eased.
And to my surprise, the weight on my left
Had also begun to cease.

The traveler and I? Well, we parted ways.
I learned to carry less load.
But from this experience, I soon realized
That others do travel this road.

Time and again, I fall and rise,
But I am never alone.
The people I meet may come and go,
But I know I am loved, as they've shown.