Baggage - Poem by Andy Brookes
Too late to recycle our love,
The old cliches you summon are tired.
It lurks in the faded tatters of dusty cobwebs
Where the corpse of our love hangs
Like a desiccated insect.
The past lies glass strewn
Like the faded roses in the crystal vase
The one you, like my illusions, shattered.
You try to present baggage
I long ago threw away,
Old and battered and almost forgotten,
Which I left behind in the maelstrom
Of the aftermath of your departure.
As fresh and new.
You are older now but no wiser
And I world weary, am wary.
So I pass and travel on leaving the past,
Safely where it belongs, in the dead ashes,
Like our love long since wind scattered,
In the past.
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