The Packing of a Suitcase
Thus packed, my simple case
What love, lost, does displace
Clothes and dreams and needs
The waste of passion's deeds
And folded with my shirts
The remnants of your hurts
Still left, such ample room
(Enough to be my tomb)
Though it can never hold
My tattered heart ... now cold.
~ 2nd Place ~ in the "It's A Shorty" Poetry Contest, Deborah Guenther Beachboard, Sponsor.
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