Sand bag

Life is a sackcloth bag, helically stitched    
And filled with earth and sand

I've carried my self like that sackcloth bag            
Firm yet shifting subtly as it moves    
With small flaws at the bottom stitching  
Leaking a little here and there along this path
Unnoticed for years: mental incontinence

Parts of me here and there left behind
Carried  myself with seeming ease
Unconcerned of the trail I left                
Grains of sand that were hard to follow    
Nothing more than moral flatulence

Just a bag of sand
Slowly leaking as my life moves on
A trail for others to follow or avoid
Grains of wisdom and lunacy
Who am I to judge
Now just a bag of bones

Copyright 3/14/19
Richard L Ratliff