The Burden

We haunt ourselves —

smiling in pictures clearly

sharper than the eye

can pinch the screen to see

that smile’s a scowl.

They are stronger than us

and more themselves, and free 

in that they are unburdened 

with having to live, no —

they already were.

It’s over. They cannot be

argued with, undone.

Worst of all, they know this

about themselves.

What are they looking at —

the dark of the lens.

Why should they smile

standing in a wilderness

without provision —

to say, I am content

in this moment belonging

to no one not me.

The burden isn’t

what we know 

they didn’t — no,

it’s all they won’t

let us forget.