The Sack

Behind the door of my mind

I found a sack that time had forgot.

In it were fragments of my childhood;

laughter echoing through cries-

pain shot with forgiveness.

Beside that were bits and pieces of my heart-

some tinged with love,

some with compassion.

Under this was a box 

filled to the brim with memories mostly faded

but some just as vibrant 

and lively as if they had just been put there.

In among all this was the glitter of diamonds-

promises of the future-

of adventures yet to be,

of colors yet to exist,

of fires yet to burn.

I picked up the sack

and under it were the bitter ashes

of anger and hatred,

of prejudice and pain.

This I left.

And like the hobos of  yesteryear

I tied my sack to the stick

that is my conscience.

I closed the door on the past.

And time, my sack and I

now travel the road that has no name-

but the road is long,

it is bright

and it is mine.