Daily Prompt:Ghost

 

Those damned red bags

Sitting in my closet

On the shelf

The maroon

Red screams

Each bag holding secrets

The sadness haunts them

Quietly

Waiting

To be visited

Waiting to be released

 

Those damned red bags

Imprinted with

The Mortuary address

I can never forget

That place

I’ve been there

Too many

Times

 

A brick building

On the outskirts of

Town

The quiet chime after

Crossing the threshold into

Tears

Pain

Finality

 

The fake plants

Squatting on the counter

Pretending to be

Growing

They too are

A façade of

Life

 

The muted greys

And browns of color

So as not to disturb the

Eyes

Trying not to be too

Bright

 

Those damned red bags

Those ghostly red bags

Sit in my closet

The echoes of

Yesterday

Screaming into

Today

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2 thoughts on “Red bags

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