Bone Shop

Old friends, bad friends, rinsing.

I am a bone collector

These candles line my windows

I am a bone collector

Candles light my shop's windows

I'd pay money to see

and

you'd pay money to see

our friends stock my shelves

It's funny now that I'm getting older

But I'm not closing shop until every bone is sold

My friends

Think my shop is good reference

They spend

Hours touching fingers

They say,

I had a bone like that.

Reviews

[marcus]

Interesting! I liked this. Even though I'm not quite sure what it's about!
Or maybe I do. The collector of souls!

[SLOVA]

Thank you for your kind words. It covers the topic of letting go of old friends, or rinsing yourself of bad friends, and looking upon the collection of the company you used to keep.

SLOVA

[Laura Lynn]

This is an interesting perspective. I had not thought of the bone collector. I like how it is right alignment here

[Bella]

Keep up a good work this poem is really good!!!

[Emily]

I love this poem! Great job!
Keep it up!