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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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