My Beliefs

I pick up each belief,
Like a sun-kissed rock,
Which catches my eye,
Fits right in my hand,
And feels right,
With its gentle warmth.

Then I put it,
In my pocket,
Continue on,
Until the next one,
And the next,
Until the weight,
Of my pockets,
Is so heavy,
My pants,
Are threatening,
To fall down.

Then I stop,
Pull out a belief,
And examine it.
If it has grown cold,
If it no longer feels good,
I gently set it down,
Then continue on.

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