Check your pockets

Checking your pockets all the time
Feeling there was something you left behind
You search though you know it’s futile
You’ve packed your bags and all is fine
That seems to be the case
Each time you leave a place
With every goodbye, there’s a part of you left behind
But you still feel your pockets from time to time
Though the last trip you took has been a while
You know it’s nothing tangible you miss
It was something you had that’s now entirely his.


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