I dropped off my bags at the station today
I’ll never collect them again.

I wonder if someone else will find them
And look at all those memories
Wonder who these two strangers are
See all our first times, so vividly
Thru an unknown set of eyes
Will they see that love disguised
The one I never spoke of to you
The one you always knew.

Or will those bags be unclaimed
Left in the dust and stained
With the liquor of time
Tossed aside with hate and crime
Do these bags, really deserve that?

They are my bags, blue and bright
And yours are grey and white.
Same instances, different perspectives
One with colour and the other deprived.

I love them, I wish I didn’t have to.

But I drop my bags off,
And though they are precious to me,
I shall not collect them again.

What have you done with your bags?

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