February 4, 2014

 

 

Inside my bag of troubles

nestles hidden gems.

Strange, but true, believe me;

as bright as diadems.

 

I’ve seen them for myself.

I glimpsed their light reflection.

Only for a second, did,

they beg for my inspection.

 

They teased and gave me hope,

when I looked in their direction,

Inside my bag of troubles,

I felt momentary affection.

 

Perhaps I looked too deeply,

beyond the junk and clutter.

‘I am really such a thick sod’,

to myself, I had to mutter.

 

It came out of the blue,

and took me by surprise.

A second of self loathing,

A quick flash of old despise.

 

I recovered almost instantly,

as stark reality set in.

l gazed into my bag of troubles,

and almost cracked a grin.

 

What I knew, and always had known,

and what was obviously quite clear,

was that I couldn’t exist upon this earth,

without my bag of troubles near.

 

 

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