Each saddened part of me that looses you
Slowly falls to the ground;
Anarchy amongst my body parts,
One for one is what it’s called.
There are no cryptic memories,
Just scribbled pages of a book
Bent at the corners and stained oily grey
That clearly show a worn use
Only my friendly pair of shoes could wear.
The manner at which each part falls
Leaves no question in my heart
Rummaging my old box stored away
I’ve left to dust beyond.
Tag: parts
Grandfather’s Shop (day 1557)
A sentence was all I wrote
On a dusty pad of paper
Laying on the old workbench
Inside my late grandfather’s shop.
I knew he was still around there,
He spoke to me in hanging machine parts
Scattered about full walls.
Then I whispered goodnight
And turned down the lights
Making sure the heavy door
Was shut the way he’d shown me how.