Left Holding the Bag

Love bled to death in an instant
leaving me holding a bag containing
every unfulfilled hope and dream I
ever had

Becoming a solo adventurer against
my will changed everything creating
a mirage that every path to any valley
traveled uphill

The burden heavier than the sum total
of physical strength combined with
internal fortitude makes fulfillment
seem impossible

Sometimes I feel like holding the bag
over a fire and just letting go watching
them all burn into ashes because when
love bled out those hopes and dreams
lost their relevance

But they’re all I have left and the thought
of starting over makes me think I will fill a
new bag with mutated versions of the same
hopes and dreams I had In the first place and
what good is that

What good is anything now when the
crossroads refuse payment and I’m left
to wander what good is what remains
my life not knowing where to turn and
what good are the contents of the bag
I’m left holding



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