Atlas

What's it like, the world upon your shoulders, but you've got the practice I think I can understand what it's like to be old Atlas The sky would fall without you and the world will crumble But no one seems to care and so it keeps you humble My shoulders ache from holding up a burden I was forced to carry The eldest child, the mediating pseudo-mother of a family They smile so sad, "my child I am so sorry for whats transpired" They call me strong, but lately all I've been is just worn out and tired And maybe I'm ungrateful, cause I've had support But the weight still feels too much and I'm always falling short I'll be okay The weight that's in my mind will lighten up with practice I am not bound quite as literally as my old pal, Atlas I'll find my way However harsh the world, however rough or callous I'm free to roam Explore the world with my heart as my atlas