Stains of Choices

In the market's dim light, I reach for a bag,

its greasy old surface tells tales that I snag.

A stranger's glance lingers, a weight in their stare,

what secrets are cradled, in folds worn with care?

Each stain a decision, a choice that I made,

like the meals that I shared, and moments that fade.

I hold it with caution, this paper confess,

and wonder if stories can shine through the mess.