A stack of unfinished poems
strewn across dusty floorboards
Discarded dreams denied homes
briefly adored but now ignored
Upon scraps of crinkled papers
scribbled stanzas so sincere
In time whose promise tapers
leaving their memory to disappear
By damaged windows drift in drafts
for this forum of found phantoms
Judging the absent authors’ crafts
with attempting awesome anthems
One distressed edge curls to reveal
faint recollections of fragrant flowers
At an age when trifles were ordeals
and the greatest goal was superpowers
Underneath are found a pair of elevens
with a short ode to harmonic symmetry
Sending this sentimental slice of heaven
launched upward into air from obscurity
Love conquers all but for the unblessed
in this tale with ending not yet met
Though will be revealed once possessed
after abandonment delivers regret
Below lies broken tender hearts laid bare
that tried-and-true but typical display
Tears soaked through sheets without a care
words shrouded by smudges wiped away
An angry roar as a bastard child is scorned
on a floating fragment of inferred imagery
Then a woeful wail for a parent mourned
as an outcast orphaned simile
This lonely land lies barren now
its secrets seeking to be reclaimed
Hoping someone someday somehow
breathes life anew into affect unchained
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