Poem: Baggage

Baggage

Why do I still carry
so many things
that are unneeded
and only wear me
with their weight,
small bits collecting
from this whole life,
long ago moments
that could not change
and are not worth
the repetition
of the mind,
it will not matter
if the right words
could be found,
it is no good now
knowing that choice
would be better
than what was made,
or who will be
the ones bringing hurt,
none of that
will change,
it is no good
to hold it so,
but that is not
to leave it all
and be no one,
their is a way
to know the past,
their must be
a way of learning
that is not holding
and remaining,
is recognizing
that to learn
one moves beyond
what was known then
and is glad for it,
but without wishing
to go back again
and be better
or do better or change
the way it was,
but how to put down
what the hands have held
for so long, have grasped
with fingers that ache
at holding but have calcified,
will not let loose,
would need to be pried away,
unless it is possible
to find a way
for them to remember
they may have
other shapes
and did not always
hold so tight.