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The first poem I ever wrote to completion in my life. |
Word Count: 178 -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- "Discard After Use" Brown paper like a tree’s limbs Wrinkled indents, a gramma’s head Shop-Rite delivery, right on time A morsel of bag steered clear from the grind. Frustrated, discarded, it meets its end The day is ending for the paige A never-ending valley filled in at the gaps. The funeral parlor drapes the casket and newspapers are tucked inside with the maps Rotten apples now fill the basket The morose mop drips on the floor And the creases of the paper recede like her veins Knock knock knockin’ on heaven’s door Mother nature spews her age Corn and eggs directed to vainly stimulate life She wondered whether some deserve a second chance, after all this was a mountain of paper a temporary window lining while painting a kitchen or textbook cover so gently tapered. Retired deli clerk had never quit his bitchin And in the end things rattle on Another forest chopped down like its previous kin Her gut had ached longing for nutrition That dilapidated sack thrown out in the bin Perhaps life will spring once more into fruition |