Bag number 1 wasn’t mine to choose,
It’s a gift I was given at birth,
To win I was going to have to lose,
I didn’t know what this life would unearth.
Bag number 2 was another gift,
Kindness it seemed to surround,
Divorce it seemed would clearly inflict,
Heartbreak for those all around.
Bag number 3 I’d picked this one out,
Packed it right up to the brim,
I wanted to scream and I wanted to shout,
Afraid of the things held within.
Bag number 4, more luggage required,
Excess will surely incur,
My passport it seems already expired,
Forever an entreuprener.
Bag number 5 must never be told,
I think I should hide this away,
Not sure how much weight this one will hold,
No funds for the excess to pay.
Bag number 6, too heavy to move,
Because I know deep inside it contains,
Bags 1,2 and 3 with a point to prove,
And bags 4 and 5 just the same.
I realised today my muscles are weak,
Others no longer intact,
That’s when I heard a little voice speak,
“I think it’s time you unpacked”