Baggage

I've got a little sack

that I carry around;

I hope it's not too big

though it's very quite round. 

A chock-full of emotions

is stashed up inside,

all squished up and churning

in my sack's fleshy hide. 

I think I can measure

a ton of disappointment;

some sadness and fear

is part of the arrangement.

There's a cupful of anger

paired up with raw pride,

and a teaspoon of

loneliness

by which I abide. 

Two spoons of grief,

ten drops of regret,

mix in some tears

and then we're all set. 

My sack is now full

of pained emotions in scope,

but I guess there's still space

for a sprinkle of

hope.