A face hidden,
a young lady,
struggling with her load.
A bag apon her back,
weighing her down.
It drags her to the earth,
her face, grazed and red.
Not only the weight of her bag,
but the people who sit on it.
She's only doing this for them.
A long whip in each hand,
thrashing her.
If it weren't for them,
she would have dropped that bag,
layed down,
and wept.
But the whips keep her going.
Then, finally she falls.
The ground accepts her,
molds around her,
and no whip in the world can move her.
She is still,
resting.
She blocks out the noise,
and weeps.