The Old Suitcase

There it was, just tossed aside.
The old suitcase
No more wanted or needed. 
But left. 
In the dust and dirt 
On the attic floor.
Remaining unopened for 
Many years.
It held the memories,
of years gone by.
Lost loves,
Trips long taken,
Some good,
Some bad.
Trips taken,
Business or pleasure.
Car or train,
Bus or plane. 
The old suitcase,
Waiting to be packed 
And repacked.
Just waiting.
One mile or a million miles,
Always the same.
Always waiting.
People pass on,
Time slips away,
Things Like the old suitcase
Get tossed aside only to remain unopened.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2023

Poem

Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.

Please Login to post a comment

Baker Avatar
September 5, 2023 at 9:33 PM
Thanks for sharing your thoughts with us through your poetry, Deborah. I liked your thoughts on that old suitcase. :-) A poet friend in Texas, Bill
Meadows Avatar
September 4, 2023 at 1:25 PM
A good poem. Well done.
Bell Avatar
September 4, 2023 at 11:05 AM
I would imagine the life of a suitcase quite an interesting one. Alas, we all know the ultimate end.
Get a Premium Membership
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace