the weight lifter

you see the body
builder
outside the gym.
sitting on a curb,
crying.
his muscles, and veins
shake
as he sobs
into his large
tanned hands.
his shirt is too
tight for
him, the muscles
rippling
along his shoulders.
his neck is a
tree trunk,
his arms
are the size of
your legs.
even the curb he
sits upon seems
to buckle beneath
his massive weight.
what's wrong, you
ask, as you stop
before him.
it's my cat he says.
I had to put
fluffy to sleep
this morning. I
loved that cat.
you put out your hand
to try to help
him up.