in my wardrobe i have, pieces of clothes i stare at,
i should probably wear them or throw them in the trash,
but i just stare at them, i cant look back,
it has me trapped there, that piece of clothe,
maybe because of that stain it has,
the smell, the color, the shape or the memories it holds,
it keeps me staring, cause if i look away,
im afraid ill forget,
about that stain, that smell, that color, that shape,
that memories it held,
but i also cant reach it, cant touch it, cant feel it,
i run towards it, but it runs away,
its faster, im slow, something holds me back, grabs me by my toes,
sure ill scream and cry, but not a single sound gets out of my mouth,
i stay silent, staring at that piece of clothe,
admiring what it once was, how it felt towards my soul.
in the dim hush of memory, i linger, lost and cold,
each thread a bitter echo of stories left untold.
the stain bleeds sorrow that will never mend,
a wound unhealed, a past that won’t transcend.
i clutch these fragments as the night takes its toll
bound in despair, i remain a captive of my own soul.
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Author:
pilisydo (
Offline) - Published: March 17th, 2025 21:33
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 12
- Users favorite of this poem: Soman Ragavan
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Comments3
Excellent write. Welcome to MPS, friend! I look forward to reading more of your poems. ☘️🎩☘️🙏💚
thank you so very much!
You are most welcome!
Different things can hold and trigger different memories for different people, nicely expressed write
thank you !!
You are very welcome
We often keep souvenirs of items that serve as triggers to our memory. With both good and bad memories attached they are hard to get rid of. Most nicely written.
♥️
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