My Crumbling Inner Space

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