A Life In Boxes And Bags
Boxed up, bagged up,
filling the spare room.
Not merely possessions,
they're harbingers of doom.
Books, piled high,
an old DVD tower.
I sit and pack,
this lonely, Godless hour.
Trinkets of a life lost,
of a person now long gone.
I sort these things and order them,
for life must still go on.
Jojoba Mansell's Other Poems
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