3 I did not change that old-white-torn bag. I just put it in a new one So that those memoirs do not fall off And it can hide those precious moments For another day, another time Until I move again And I find it right on the corner of my room And for a moment, it'll again Take me back in time Take me to you And I lose myself Until, Reality yanks me off my slumber Lumped throat, I gulped the whole bottle Heart wrenched, soul tugged I managed a smile - poignant Feeble - defeated And I rolled my eyes over my room All done - neatly packed - ready to move To a better, bigger place The ironies of "moving" And its pushing me to bygones Compelling me to slobbery... ***