The Collector Poem by soren Barrett
The Collector
He collected things, a short piece of string, a warped washer too big for the rusted bolt and striped nut.
A small glittering woman doll of plastic, smudged and worn held by an elastic to a hollow broken man
He kept everything in a single old cigar box, even in his relationships he had no care or discrimination
He held on to all things worthless
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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8/29/2026 12:26:35 AM # rel_20260827T145718Z_a0f1bd3
