old luggage
sitting in the garage
caught in a cobweb, a memory
nostalgia dusting the surface
just a thin, thin layer
promises I couldn’t keep
tears that she just wouldn’t weep.
A chronicle of where I've been, where I'm at, and where I'm going.
Written by
old luggage
sitting in the garage
caught in a cobweb, a memory
nostalgia dusting the surface
just a thin, thin layer
promises I couldn’t keep
tears that she just wouldn’t weep.
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