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A suitcase I found when I was a boy,
Inside it I carried my one special toy.
A little while later when I was a teen,
I wore a new back pack,
I felt I looked keen.
A young man of twenty,
I found some new bags,
I filled them up full,
With all of my rags.
The years passed quite slowly,
The luggage was older,
A cooler I kept,
To keep my drinks colder.
I carried my sacks,
And baggage around,
It became so heavy,
It drug on the ground.
So put it away,
I surely did,
No one would know,
If I kept it hid.
I locked it up tight,
Even threw some away,
But most was still there,
To my own dismay.
Then into my room,
Slowly I crept,
A sale was in order,
In action I leapt.
House cleaning in June,
On into July,
The baggage is thinning,
I’ve learned how to fly.
Cause isn’t a carry on,
Nary a nuff?
Who needs all those bags,
Why carry that stuff.
I may die tomorrow,
Or live for a while,
Whatever the outcome,
I’ve learned how to smile.
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And as she plays,
her sweet song of laughter
floats through the air
and warms my heart
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