Lost For Words
The rain poured heavily upon me,
my black umbrella my only source
of shelter as the rain washed away
all that was left in its care.
Children’s chalk drawings,
large piles of fall leaves—
the careful calligraphy
etched in black inside
a curiously abandoned journal.
Heartfelt confessions, tragedies,
and daily routines,
now nothing more
than blotches of ink
between soaked pieces of paper.
Documents of memories
now literally fading away.
I wonder how one could lose
something so precious.
Maybe they left it in an attempt
to rid themselves of it.
Hopefully in old age
the writer will recall the
stories that shaped them.
Living within this
forgotten vessel.
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