AN OLD SWEATER WITH A STAIN

[ Sometimes when we look at some of our old stuff we feel a want to be there once more to see it again. It is about that feel which I felt when I was asked by my mother to clean my room. It is pretty much realistic. And for the record I don't smoke. :D ]

While cleaning my room

I checked out my cupboard 

Got some shirts

And rough pants

A leather belt,

Some torn up papers,

An undone deodorant

A nostalgic pain

Some bittersweet memories.

A napkin with an untold story

Which should not have been this way (sigh)

I went straight in to the lap of time

A book of my nursery rhymes,

A photograph so old in black and white

A poem I didn’t write,

A pack of DVDs ,

With a pile of classics

Chosen

Seen

Stored and broken,

A pair of key rings,

Africa core,

A rebel scarf

Made me think and feel sour.

Hot wheels toy car,

A half smoked cigar

Childhood to manhood

In a blink of an eye.

The broken edge of the door,

Stained handle and a bronze key hole

And again the nostalgic pain.

Somewhere beneath the pile of shrugs

I found,

An old sweater with a stain

A fair stain.