MY STUFF

Boxes, bins, bags,
containers for storage,
nothing of necessity.
Only excess treasures
I'll one day rediscover.   

But for now there's no need,
I have run out of space.
I can live without it.

Wall to wall,
my attic is brimming.
Every cubic square foot,
my basement is swallowed.

I hold on to things I know I don't need
for the hope of a day I may be in want.

I walk outside my front door steps
where the hopeless beggar pleads for help.
I regretfully reply,
"Sorry, but I have nothing to give you."


3rd Place in The Lighthouse Poetry Contest