Ominous bags.. one carries them all
They’re full of slack.. at most times no life overall
Their presence mostly assumed.. Bigoted rash
Crystallizes hidden contempt.. Content?
Vague and aghast!
The bag of-so perceived goods
Thrones on ones shoulders.. glitter and bling Odds
Fake makeup hides and distorts our It.. conceived ‘umph
Bewilders ourselves in warm.. Reality?
Short of nothing!
The bag of personal values.. ‘likes of me and you
Take them as cornerstones of our means.. thou
Nothing stings better of emptiness’ self.. When
In the end we look empty handed.. Unconscious?
You bet all the way!
The bag of closely tied friends..stones to grab
Few to none will prove the long run.. ‘ll end up with a drag
A sinuous short sided blind folded path.. ripped away
Or better..each a self centered planet.. Rich and promiscuous?
But nonetheless shy to be!
The bag of dreams and desires and extra self Worths
All envisioned and grown up by the nay corners of mind.. aloof
In the end not so good to come through.. Quite at all
As perceived blossoms of fruits.. stale.. empty..where?..what?
Sure.. the biggest the dream.. the hardest the fall!
The bag of memories.. remains of our scorched shell
Of-so perceived goods with no time value at all
Of personal values gone south at the whim of a fall
Of closely tied friends now all dusted and small
Of dreams and desires torn to pieces by times’ wall
All stood in the way, in our way to grow tall.
So, any hope for us in the end?
Any dotted line drawn for us by the times’ hand?
To compare to?..
Will we stand by our worth?.. such obscure.. gone!