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Poetry from within
   

My Bags are packed


There I was just turned Eighteen

Been at college for a year

Waiting for the call up, a small spike of fear

Off into the unknown with my bags in tow

I know my parents didnít really want me to go



New Iron, hangers, polish and cloth

Checking the list twice to make sure I have it all

Hoping that I donít falter or fall

Two hold alls carry my worldly things

As I lift them to my shoulder my heart sings



Stepping out of my life, comfort and kin

Off I go, with family in tow

Everyone is there except my Bro

Weeks of being shout at, what a din

Months pass and now I am in



A life in the mob is something to behold

Experiences and possessions I gather to me

Very quickly not two bags, now I need three

The years roll by, fleeting and full

Enjoying the life and putting up with the bull



I take on a role that is above and beyond

Stepping out from the warmth into all weather

Stepping between rocks, earth, through grass and heather

At this time the bags are more than a few

I'm not sure if all are in full view



During this time I find my one true love

We are joined and set out on a path ahead

Not knowing some nights it will fill us with dread

By now the bags are multiplied ten fold

It seems they increase more now that I am old



Many years on we are both out of the mob

Struggling to carry on, determined to stay

Together no matter what, come what may

Our belongings now fill a modest house

All the crap gathered by me and my spouse



Where did it all come from

The bags that started as two long before

Have now mated becoming dozens more

There are several bags I would be rid

Filled with dark thoughts, deep down they are hid

Chris Duncan