Poem no. 1165. Just a short quick verse themed on having a burden. I had a visual in my mind of a man, haggard and bedraggled, half-naked wearing trousers all tattered. This man, I imagined was walking with an uncomfortable gait on a wet pebble beach, the icy grey Atlantic tides crashing upon the shore-line. In his hands was an iron chain to which was attached a rock, yet on closer inspection it was clearly a beating, living heart. However, this heart had gouged a long, deep trough across the expanse of beach along with a river of blood from where the chain had gnawed into the man's hand.