When he picked up
all his troubles
and placed them all
in kit bag,
he could not travel,
he could not move.
His past was
just too heavy,
too large,
too awkward
to bring.
I love your poem & I relate to it quite a bit. In my 30's, I worked with a young lady who had a dream about me, saying I was dragging bags & bags & bags of crap along behind me (in her dream). She musta been psychic, becuz she was right. I love the way you address this playfully (((HUGS))) Fondly, Margie
Posted 7 Years Ago
7 Years Ago
Thank you Margie for your input as always delighted to have any ladies like yourself grace my page.
...and so he let it fall away, gratefully. I know this too well. Beautifully written and themed poem Andrew. There comes a point when we just have to realize that the baggage is not worth the price. Kudos!
Posted 7 Years Ago
7 Years Ago
Thank you kindly Annette for your kind words and visit.
Strindberg said.
" When I come home and sit at my writing table, then I live.... I live, and I live in manifold fashion of all human beings. I depict; I am glad with the glad, wicked with the wicked,.. more..