I Lost ItA Poem by ColdSpiralA waiting game, in the end. I'd tried everything to shake it but it just kept on turning up again. I drove far out of town, to the river. Watched it float away, hessian-bagged.
It was waiting when I got home. I sold it to a drunk but he left it in my mailbox, trampled my garden. Posting it to Siberia, a cop-out, true, but worth a shot.
I moved house while it was gone. It turned up in the moving van, and I tried to claim it wasn't mine. The removalist smiled, knowingly, tapped his nose, left it in my kitchen.
It taught me, in its own way, cunning and guile behind its smug facade. And I learned. Locked in a safe, in a vault; motion-sense, infra-red. It was stolen the next day.
Finally it is lost. The memories it holds are hazier now, without its promptings. I'm better off, now I've lost it. How I wish it were back. © 2008 ColdSpiralReviews
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Added on February 5, 2008Last Updated on February 18, 2008 AuthorColdSpiralBendigo, AustraliaAboutI write... sometimes. Occasionally, I'll finish something. You may even get to read it. That's about all I need to say, so... more..Writing
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