Not just any old bag

My Cath kidston bag had it's debut today.

There was no foul play.

If you don't count the times it was pushed up against the wall,

by a passer by who was far too tall.

Or the times it was kicked by a passenger in the front of the car.

Or the time I had to dislodge it from between the chair leg and the table with a crowbar.

It's not a safe world out there for inanimate objects for sure,

and to put it through that again, will just be immature.

No! I'm not going to take the chance of it being hurt again.

What if it fell down a drain?

I know, I know, that's going a bit far.

But I don't want it to scar.

I didn't want to use the popper either in case it broke.

If I'm not careful, all this worrying will cause a stroke.

So just for a while I'm going to put it back on the top shelf,

and keep its beauty all to myself.

Even though the woman at the interview remarked on how brilliant it was.

I'm not going to give anybody just cause.

I don't want anyone to be put in harms way,

if my temper happened to stray.

No, I'm not prepared to take that chance.

But if you want to see its beauty.... you only have to ask.