My Baggage.

Now that I'm home, bathed, settled, and fed,
All nicely tucked in my warm, new bed.
I'd like to open my baggage
Lest I forget
There is so much to carry-----
So much to regret.

Hmm..Yes there it is, right here on top
Let's unpack loneliness, heartache and loss.
And there by my leash, hides fear and shame.
As I look on these things I tried so hard to leave,
I still have to unpack my baggage called pain.
I loved them, the others, the ones who left me,
But I wasn't good enough--for they didn't want me.

Will you add to my baggage?
Will you help me unpack?
Or will you just look at my things--
And take me right back?

Do you have the time to help me unpack?
To put away my baggage,
To never repack?
I pray that you do--I'm so tired you see,
But I do come with baggage.

This lovely poem was discovered by Marita Johansen in Norway,
but sadly, she doesn't know who the author is.
The next poem on this page is a reply to this one by Frode in Norway.


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