Second-Hand - Poem by JENIE FRANKSAY
The ring with misplaced stone,
Your guitar pluck made of bone,
Wrappers of chocolates you once gave,
And envelopes of friendly exchanges.
Are not with me now..
coz i have thrown some of them,
and burned some of them.
Because they reminded me of you,
Because theyg made me weak,
Because they were not worth to be
in my wardrobe shelves.
The pages from my diary
with your talks in it,
are going to find themselves
in some municipal trashcans.
Shattered, crumpled, half-burnt.
Coz i hate distractions.
Coz it was all your game,
Coz you were a mistake.
Coz you are so much fake.
And someone else was into your ducts,
And i hate second hand products.
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