My suitcase will be empty when I reach my journey’s end
Definitely it will not contain clothes, or houses, dollars or shares
Awards, honour and esteem wont make it to the end
Pain, irritation, grief and mourning will not be carried
Deeds (however good) I fear will not find a place
Surely, I hope, I will have dropped anger, greed and envy along the way
Lost my intellect (or stupidity) and charm (or lack thereof)
I doubt if even memory, feelings, my very self will make it
Perhaps there will be an echo of compassion and of love
Not just for the few but for the many (if I can)
But, my suitcase will be empty
My Suitcase
A metaphorical poem about life
Anne van Alkemade
,
about 1 year ago
May it be used for lots of nice things in the meantime!
Helene Kippert, about 1 year ago
I like this Pilgrim. :o)
Jienn Heibloem, about 1 year ago
Mr Pilgrim you never fail to inspire….......
what I think happens is that you pass onto to those you cherish a vast array of memories and that then allows the process complete.
Someone said to me…you never really existed when you are not remembered…..I would add the question…how will I know I am not remembered and am I doing anything memorable…...hmmmm
xxme
AnnH, about 1 year ago
Thoughtful and thought provoking
Adrian Rachele, about 1 year ago
Very nice Pilgrim.
Straight from the heart.
Suzanne German, about 1 year ago
You know Pilgrim – this piece made me think – If I were you I would want it written into a song with music and played when I was gone in my memory…..really really lovely!