I say, “I cannot bear it.” Then I do.
Unfair that you should catch me bearing up.
And that is why the world goes on with few
demurring, rather, bearing up and up.
One time I bore up hard and then I fell.
I fell so hard I could not tell an up
from down or right from left or hill from dell.
It looked as if I’d fully drained the cup.
But then I twitched and then I rolled and up
I came, both bearing up and bearing scars.
And when the daze was past, I knew corrupt
from good and lie from truth and space from stars.
You say, “I cannot bear it.” Then you do.
It’s fair that I should catch you bearing up.