I saw an old man walking down a long and windy road.
And on his back, he carried a large and heavy load.
As he went, he picked up worries that he'd add on his back.
And though he stooped to breaking, still he added to his pack.
I heard him moan and grumble of the weight that he must bear,
But knew he was unwilling, of one small thing to share.
"It's mine," I heard him rumble, with a voice akin to fear.
"I'll keep it right here with me, to my grave I'll keep it near."
I wondered at his foolishness. How could he be so blind,
To his self-inflicted pain, or the folly of his mind?
I shook my head at that old man and where his future lay.
Then took ahold on my own load and continued on my way.
Matthew 11:28-29
"Come to Me, all who are weary and heavy-laden, and I will give you rest. Take My yoke upon you and learn from Me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and YOU WILL FIND REST FOR YOUR SOULS." (NASB)