I've got my bags ready for the long, long flight.
Damn airports, packed with passengers pushing and prodding
As if they are the centre of all, the star most bright.
As if. The average passenger is just a sodding
Ignoramus hoisting a twenty tonne sack,
As they batter their way to the front of the pack.
A man took a bag from me without me noticing;
The amber one I had cherished, my duty to uphold.
I pondered if I should pursue, or refrain provoking
The thief. The bag was no longer brilliant gold,
For it had been weighing me down, leaving me frayed.
Take it, I don't care; it was excess baggage anyway.
I had many bags, most I deemed useless.
They carried junk I didn't need in my life,
So holding them was nothing but foolish;
Why add extra weight to my troubles and strife
When they can be left behind and forgotten?
Though I needed help disposing the bags that were rotten.
"Either stay behind or leave the extra luggage."
The fools left the plane and clung to their possessions
Like their bags were sacred passages
In a holy book, not even trying to break their obsessions.
To others who carry all their bags, it's a shocker
That all I need for my flight is in the overhead locker.