If you were to look inside my simple little bag, you would get lost in what you see.
The scattered papers lay bent and broken, left for no one to read.
Each one of them has something, a story to be told.
But if you looked down further you would find it very cold.
Behind the tattered notebooks, something lies there and waits.
Trying to break free and find its escape.
For in-between the pages and little blue lines,
A story is unfolding waiting for its time.
Although you may not see it, it remains there just the same.
Within the little drawings a story makes its claim.
If you were to look inside my simple little bag, you might think it to be light.
You cannot see the stories hidden from your sight.
But when you go and lift it, you see what weight it holds.
You’ll understand the weight inside as you feel you lose your hold.
If you look inside my simple little bag there are stories you won’t find.
But if you wait and do not leave, you might find what’s hidden away inside my secret mind