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.
DO YOU STILL WANT ME?

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.

Billy

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