After reading my poem about my phone, one of the blog’s readers reached out to me asking if I could write a poem about a backpack. If you are reading this Akshitha, then this one is for you.

My Backpack

A faithful friend, a loyal companion
My backpack, you are the chosen one
You protect my valuables and possessions
In any weather, under any circumstances

In school, you were enormous and more often than not a burden
Filled and bursting with books and notes, typed and handwritten
Then in college, you were filled with gadgets and gizmos
Books were now secondary, these were my main cargoes

Then I grew up and started using you for work
You held my precious laptops and electronics
I made sure you were protected, else I would go beserk

You became my trusted travel buddy
Always with me on every spree
Busses, Trains or Planes, you were always by my side
My friend, my hero, my pride

I dread the day when you will no longer be with me
When I can no longer use you, I will be very blue
The day when you will be torn and unusable
Is when I send you off and hope your replacement is your equal

My backpack, my friend this is the truth
You have seen me in all my glory, from my childhood to my youth
I will miss you, but life goes on
A new backpack will come and begin a new dawn