Paper Bag
April 22nd, 2007 (Poetry)As I sat and stared at the brown bag
My mind wandered
Like this bag, I have stored up things inside
Filled past the recommended weight limit
But, the bag is only paper
Unlike me, it is so fragile
Or, am I that frail too?
Ready to burst at any minute
Do you judge me bag?
What makes you think you are any different?
Eventually, you spill your contents
You fill someone else up with what’s inside you
But that’s the difference isn’t it?
You have been filled by another and give away what you hold to one who asks
I fill myself with worries and doubt
Who can give that away?
Who wants to give that away?
Is there someone who would listen?
Is it not better to come alive by the filling and emptying of that which is worthwhile?
