The Passport

You keep me hidden
And only take me out when you want an escape
A way to hide, to run, from- I assume- your problems
But you don’t tell me anything.
Many people envy you
That you have me, that you can get me in the first place
They can only dream of having one like me
Allowing them to go to and from uncharted places
Where the heart and mind can escape
Some will never leave their homes
Not because they won’t, but because the can’t
Can’t get their hands on one like me
It’s the privilege of your place
The way of the world
You take me out when something goes wrong
To keep out of trouble
To prove your worthy and not a criminal
I’m your escape key
You hold me dear and show me off
To all your friends to brag about where you’ve been
What you’ve done, what you’ve seen
But I saw nothing.
I saw your back pocket, your room, purse, wallet
And yet you let other people stare at me
Place their marks on me
I am nothing to you, but I’m everything to what you want to do
To be, to see
You want to be the envy of all your friends
And I alone can give you that
But you think nothing of me
I’m just a record keeper of all your excursions and adventures
Some that didn’t end well, some that did
But no one will know save for you and me
And I know you won’t tell anyone about the downsides
Just the special parts, to make you seem just as amazing
And I won’t be able to, because the marks on me
Tell one story, and the fact that I’m stuffed back in your closet
Tells another.



Originally published april 9, 2019

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