Bag Of Dreams

Bag of Dreams
I put my hand in my bag
Out I take a young man clad in black
Dark suit, brown shoes, no tattoes, unsullied in the sunshine
Chauffeured off in a one of its kind, limo version of the then modern day equivalent of the Aston DB9
He arrives at his destination to a hoard of journalists,
Security personnel try to clear them off but he insists
On making a press statement
Right there on the pavement
And tells them all his wife is having a baby
Just before it all got hazy
A boy or a girl maybe.
I thrust my hand down further
Into this bag of magical leather.
Out of it I take  a beautiful bride
One by his side will always abide.
Her smile melts blocks of ice
Lips sweeter than the sweetest spice.
She's  wrapped around in a white wedding gown
On her head a sparkling diamond encrusted crown.
Down my hand goes
Into the bag of life's greatest shows
In the moisture of sweat and blood
Past the filth of weeds and mud.
Through moulds of doubt and dismay
I never cave for I know that this may
be the only chance I get this day.
I pull out my hand and shut it real tight,
Let the nostalgia eat me alive in the dimly lit December night.
My bag of hope, sewn from dead skin from my genes,
A bag full of possibilities, my bag of dreams.