The Antique Store

The Antique store Antiques she adored, a relic he was. She had a special place for art. Unfortunately it wasnt her heart. I'm clinging on to the older things the antiques of our time. Sometimes they break or get lost. I cannot replace them, no one can replace them. But I'd rather have an antique than nothing at all. At least I can say I enjoyed it at some point. Teach me to make beautiful. No beauty can I find. Search me whole. Tell only what thoughts appear to be mine. First comings need an exit of least disgrace. No one wants to be kept waiting. For then their time might never come. Trimmed antiques in dusty lace. A whole world Begging for Change Daring to dream Endless altering realities Figuring that the end Generates a new start Hinging on the application of 'I' Just in terms of understanding Knowledge of the self Learning about the Magic inside all of us Nearing that Ominous future Persistent in the Quest for a better tomorrow Reach for it! Stand up for it! Teach the young to Usher in their new era Vestiges of ours gone Without a second thought Xenoliths of a different time Yellowed antiques Zealous youth to push aside our failures When you don't need me, you put me on a shelf with your dusty trophies you never really earned, and antiques you never took care of. I'm up front, visible, easy to reach at your convenience. But I know you would rather take what you need from your precious china cabinet. Just know that when you fumble, when you slip up, and when you stumble, your precious china will break. But I will still be here. I have gathered all time tellers, grandfather clocks, alarm clocks, phones, watches - to tell you that : I have all the time in the world for you. It might not be the most sophisticated way to say that I have an ear for listening and a heart for consolation, but don't be too skeptical with my methods. Forgive me, maybe, perhaps, if I can't be so bold and concise. At least, now we've got all these antiques to talk about. he is a lover of brokenness. he likes antiques, collecting little fragments of things. he hates breaking them, so he finds brokenness, fixes it up a little, takes a few pieces and leaves. he's already taken a bit of me, and unless I shatter again, he'll leave forever. By Aliza Kashmala Kiran