Tattered, torn, fragmented
But alphabetically secure.
Compartmentalised, so ordered,
My address book, eight by four.
There are those who've moved away,
Moved homes to countries far.
Those whose relationships have ended,
Leaving broken lives, so scarred.
There's young, there's old who've passed away
As I quickly check my age,
So when I come to my own entry
I slyly turn the page.
There are those who've been promoted.
There are those whose lives have failed.
There are those - almost forgotten -
But none have been to jail!
New additions, those with partners
Never featuring before.
New lives starting with excitement
With new numbers on their doors.
Tattered, torn, fragmented
But alphabetically secure.
Sellotaped, bound lives together
In my address book - eight by four.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem