A Bag

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All I needed was a bag
To carry the weight in.
The weight that I'd been balancing on my head for years so that my neck had become crooked and buckled.

All I needed was a bag
To carry the dark in that
I have held in my mouth
For so many months making my breath bitter,
My words so unctuous and acidic that I could
No longer stomach them.

All I needed was a bag
To carry the emptiness that had been lodged
In my chest like a hunk of shrapnel from some
forgotten battle against an enemy that'd never really existed.

All I needed was a bag
And it was you who handed me one.

Not a cheap plastic thing from a chain-supermarket,
That would snap under the pressure. No.
The bag you handed me was tried and tested.
Faded canvas with two firm handles and
a logo of a now closed-down museum, where you had once worked.
You held it out to me and said:
"Here. You can use this."

And I did.

I placed the things inside and we took a handle each.

After a while, you told me to put the bag down but I was reluctant.
You insisted and when I looked inside we found it was empty.

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Comments

Frances Macaula... | October 27, 2009 - 04:01

A well-deserved cherry - I really like the words and sentiment of this original poem.
I particularly like the repetition, the construction and the twist at the end, however if it was mine, I think I'd change the delivery and review quite a few of the line-breaks. i'd also be more specific and call it 'The bag' instead of 'A bag'.

Mangone | October 27, 2009 - 09:57

I loved it and I thought the title was just right.

harveyjoseph | October 28, 2009 - 13:55

Thanks for your comments. I think you are definitely right about some of the line breaks. It was quite a spur-of-the-moment thing in terms of composition and I didn't really ponder on the purpose of the line breaks too much. I know what you mean about the title too but thinking about it, I feel that perhaps 'A Bag' hints that it was not the bag itself that was important but the act of the person giving it to me. Maybe...