Afterthought
Times were when your attention was constant,
you couldn't talk to me more with excitement
in your voice, anticipation dripping
from your tongue, but as time goes on,
what was once lush with life,
has become a barren land.
Forgotten like clothes on a line
when a rainstorm drenches them
soaking wet, limp, lifeless.
Only an umbrella protects me
as I become an afterthought
until needed for later use.
Copyright © Sharon Riggio | Year Posted 2017
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