Chap 8

The Bag

Like a black holeWith seemingly infinite spaceThe wheezing of the wheelsAs it matches my paceI have it packedTo take with meMy clothes it holdsAnd all my shoesOh how much more can I fitThe space seems like infinityI look at it, with all that it holdsMy scarves and dressesAnd all things goldAs heavy as a mountainAnd sometimes as light as airIt stares at me from the groundI can fit more, as if it dares