All that's left
Is silver necklace.
It came in the mail
While I was cooking breakfast.
Such an act was reckless;
Quite unexpected to see.
It may have lost value to you;
But it meant much more to me.
All that's left
Is bracelet lined with symbols.
You tried to write it off;
But it was never that simple.
You claimed it hurt your wrist;
Said that it gave you pimples;
But you never could resist
Rubbing it against your dimples.
All that's left
Is a pair of earrings.
You used to cherish them.
Now, you say they're flimsy things.
When I presented them to you,
I could see your heart sing
But nowadays, they lay on the table.
The memory alone continues to sting.
All that's left
Is the ring I never purchased.
At first, it made me nervous
To even consider such a service.
It would appear that such an act
Was never in God's plan or purpose.
I should be grateful for the fact
That I've had a chance to learn this.
All that's left
Are these trinkets and toys,
A backpack full of nicknacks,
And remnants of forlorn joy.
There's no drive to subscribe to;
No ambition to employ;
No one left for you to lie to.
Assume modesty; but you're not coy.
All that's left
Are memories of our children:
A boy and two girls.
I ponder them often
As if to miss them
And they've never seen this world.
They only shine in memory
Like murky oceans with few pearls.
All that is left
Is a rusty handle,
A treble clef,
A beautiful work of art
That has gone to waste,
A moist face full of tears
That carry a sour taste,
And a love scorn man
More than ready to displace.
Determination is now sullen.
I've lost the will to chase.
It burns worse than mace.
This treasure is broken.
All of it's songs are in bass.
So all that is left
Under this pile of smoldering rocks
Is our old music box.
Looks like we won't need the locks...
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