Wednesday, August 7, 2024

Contained

Glass full of echoes
Tote full of tears
Cup full of memories
Mug of cold beer

Scoop with my wishes

Boot with my cries

Pocket of mystery

Plenty of lies


Halo of happy

Hand full of hope

When they get low

I drag and I mope


Heart full of blood

Pumping around

Eyes full of wonder

Ears full of sound


These are the things

I carry ‘round with me all day

I can’t let ‘em go

They’re full of the stuff I say


A mountain of loss

A room with no view

A burden of sorrow

To ponder and chew


Utterances astounding

Secrets untold

Why do I keep them?

They taunt and they scold


Bowl full of questions

A thimble, a wish

A simple concoction

In a petri dish


To grow and to wither

To blossom and die

A brain full of missions

Keeps wondering why


These are the things

I carry ‘round with me all day

I can’t let ‘em go

They’re full of the stuff I say


I vase full of lonely

A briefcase of fear

Toolbox of letters

I hold so dear


Bucket of boasting

Wheelbarrow of shame

Dreams of beyond

Held in a satchel too tame


A harbor of bitterness

In my journal of regret

Baskets bestow love

A well so deep I forget


Box of old pictures

Tray of lost names

Clipboard of schedules

Voluminous games


These are the things

I carry ‘round with me all day

I can’t let ‘em go

They’re full of the stuff I say


My wineglass of joy

Is brimming with glee

My thermos of mocking

Regulates me


Barrel of pointless

Tankard of trash

Saltshakers compassion

A sprinkle, a dash


A salute to the teachers

A nod to the wise

I harvest and gather

The sunsetting skies


Cleverly doing

What I must do

To capture in vessels

These thoughts I issue


These are the things

I carry ‘round with me all day

I can’t let ‘em go

They’re full of the stuff I say


By Royce Waxenfelter

8/7/24

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