For those of you who don’t know her, you do know that I’ve made plenty of mention of her here, my friend who is the Poet Mistress Extraordinaire. Need a poem for a funeral, a wedding, a down day, an up day, a fight with your partner, a celebration to end all celebrations and oh, just the ones because it’s a beautiful or not-so-beautiful day outside or inside? She’s the go-to woman for all that and more. But today, the day of The Missing Backpack that then came home, she pulled this one out of her hat – unbelievable, I tell you, unbelievable! How do you do it, Keelty, really, how do you do it?! And now, with this posted, I really am going to bed! With my backpack, I think, all cuddled up together. Sound weird, yeah well, who cares. Certainly not me!
Old and shattered, worn and battered
Covered with nothing but Sharpie signatures and an old Coke stain on the front. And back.
New year at school, everyone gets new and stylish backpacks
Though theirs from last year are shining with perfectness
I sigh at the sad sight of my backpack
But the I smile
My backpack is my backpack and it will never be anyone else’s
I don’t care if it’s dirty and old
It represents me
And the means the world to me,
not some stuck up person with a brand new backpack each year
DIRT REPRESENTS LOVE
Created by gingerbreadbeardxoxo
Tuesday, December 29, 2009