It's strange the things we leave behind.
discarded.
one pink shoe, it's partner
no where to be seen.
Empty bottles, old stuffed animals.
Pictures of people we used to know
and wonder where they'd be now.
dust covered text books from 9th grade.
Somehow we thought we might need them
someday down the road.
So we held on like the dust,
entrenched in every crevice.
No comments:
Post a Comment