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Poem

Deep within me are rusty, crumbling memories and grief,
like a pile of rubbish the dregs of yesterday decay;
all the bits and pieces of my life deep and inner lay,
but under withering sadness I can find a flower or green leaf.
A beautiful memory rising and I sweep away the trash to embrace,
and all the years of pain fade and I am in a lovely, lovely place;
oh, often I go to my most innermost space to find a magical trace.

I have collected clutter and piles of rubbish in this life,
lots of debris and toxic waste among the odds and ends in a heap;
it is enclosed in my innermost space way down deep, deep,
I keep the worst experiences buried because they cut like a knife.
But, every once in a while something charming grows,
from all the garbage in my soul a beautiful thought glows;
and for a moment I throw away all my many woes.

Oh yes, in the junkyard on the map of my existence,
I keep all the garbage and the lovely memories  secure;
and only me, me alone has the key to the padlocked door,
I bring it all with me no matter how twisted and long the distance.
Yet, there is another space also cluttered where the lovely flourish,
I water each memory daily with my tears to nourish;
and to my broken heart I press them and forever will cherish.

_____________________________
October 4, 2019


Poetry/Rhyme/My Crumbling Inner Space
Copyright Protected, ID 19-1186-188-02
All Rights Reserved.  Written under Pseudonym.


Written for the contest, My Favorite Junkyard
sponsor, Craig Cornish

15th Place

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