Baggage
I'm going to drop all my baggage here.
It's going to make a loud noise, I'm sure,
But I'm going to walk away and not look back.
I do not own its noise
And yet, my dear friends,
If a sweet metallic vibration
Of brash against stone
Whooshes an end to this sad symphony,
Well, I'll take that.
I will store that sound away in my heart
In a place where no one needs to
Hear a damn word about it,
For you see, some treasures must be kept unknown
Just as some baggage must be kept astrewn.
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