What would you do if you lost all your possessions?

I think possessions own us

And not the other way.

We‘re desperate to protect what’s ours

And, if we can, get more.

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They say if you’d be perfect

You should give it all away.

The secret of eternal life

Is to sell it for the poor.

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It’s not a sermon preached much

We all know the score.

Possessions mean too much to us.

We can not let them go.

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We‘re happy to say ‘freedom’

Means nothing left to lose

But these are empty words because

It’s never what we choose.

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Sadly it can happen

And it all gets ripped away

But hand on your heart

Can you truly say

It wouldn’t get to you.

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I think that you’d be consumed still

By all the things you’d lost

Could you simply walk away

Or would they still own you?

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I think there’d be a period

You’d simply be in shock.

Robbed of our possessions

What is left of us?

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We‘re ruled by our possessions

They tell us who we are

Or sometimes when we cling to things

Remind us who we were.

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The truth is that the less you have

The less there is to lose.

Imagine being super rich

Perhaps they live in fear.

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Where to park their luxury car

Safely berth their yacht

Stash away their jewellery

Protect what they have got?

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Once I had a fantasy

Of never owning much

What goes in a rucksack

And that would be enough.

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It’s sadly not realistic

We all know that it’s not.

There’s always reasons we want more

We never have enough.

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I find indeed I still cling on

To stuff I do not need.

For what I have is who I am

And I can’t let it go.