LIFE IN A BOX

 

LIFE IN A BOX.

LIKE A DRAWERE FULL OF MATCHED SOCKS.

 

SOME TATTERED AND TORN.

OTHERS WAITING TO BE WORN.

 

COLORS ONCE BRIGHT, FADING AWAY.

OTHERS ONCE WHITE, TURNING TO GREY.

 

WHETHER FOR COMFORT OR STYLE, THERE IS A NEED TO COMPARE.

COMPANY IS COMING, WHICH ONE'S DO I WEAR?

 

THESE ONES KEPT ME WARM, THOSE GAVE ME  A CHILL.

THESE WERE MY FAVORITE, BUT NOW STAINED BY A SPILL.

 

SOAP AND BLEACH, TRY TO MAKE THEM COME CLEAN.

I WORE THIS PAIR ONCE , JUST TO BE MEAN.

 

MENDING IS A CHOICE, NEED STRONG NEEDLE AND THREAD.

BUT I CHOOSE TO SORT TROUGH THEM, TRASHING THE BAD ONES INSTEAD.

 

I FOLD AND ARRANGE THEM WITH PURPOSE DICTINCT.

RIDDING MYSELF OF THOSE WITH HOLES OR JUST PLAIN STINK.

 

ONE BY ONE A CHANCE TO SORT AND COMPARE.

FOR ITS MY FEELING I WRITE ABOUT, WHILE SITTING IN MY CHAIR.

 

 

 

DARRYL   2004