Paraphernalia

In my baggage full of trappings
Which I struggle to arrange
Properties I should have lost
That I never did exchange
 
They clutter up my carry space
Bits and bobs that clunk around
Traces of lost meanings
Like shipwrecks run aground 
 
I’ll confine them to the dustbin
For all the good they’ll do me now
Not worth salvage or recycling
In passing on they’ve lost their wow