Analysis of The Red Wheelbarrow (my extended version)

so much depends                                      
upon

a red wheel                                          
barrow

glazed with rain                                  
water

beside the white
chickens.

so much depends upon the
push

the push of my dented
hands

to push the world of
worries

that I carry with me every
day.

so much depends upon
life

to rain down it’s
struggles

upon me while I
push with me

all of my worries,
my failure,
and my dormant success.

so much is thought of a
wheelbarrow,

forced to carry the pain,
and even worse, expected to be completely and utterly okay,
even when life pours upon it all of its calamity,
without an ounce of regard that maybe
this weight is too much for the wheelbarrow to haul.

so much depends upon the
chickens

sitting there,
watching me push along.

all they do is
sit there

all they do is
watch me

watch me as a struggle,
struggle with moving this burden of a weight.

but what are they to do,
when they’re much too weak to even grasp what I have to hold onto?

so much depends upon my
mind

to think its fragile
thoughts

to be able to put so much worry next to such a simple thing.

but a red wheelbarrow to you,
is not a red wheelbarrow to me.

so much depends
upon

a red wheel
barrow

glazed with rain
water

beside the white
chickens.