old photos in a tin box



Like a stack of old pictures
Yellowed by age
Smelly of decay
And sticky from the clamping together
I used to be a joy
I used to be relished
But now
Now I’m the worn out rug in the rain
I am a festered sore on a toe
Waiting to be cut off
Like the photos of the yester-years
I am just a memory in a tin box

2 comments:

  1. memories are good things....nice piece

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    Replies
    1. Memories are lovely things, thanks for giving it a read.

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