A waste bin
for digits, photos and glitches
swept beneath carpets and into the ditches,
An icon - a basket, sits on my screen
I drag and drop items to keep the place clean,
Yet never a truck, with men and or flies
appears to remove this basket of lies.
Pieces of
memories and stories untold
starting to rot and beginning to mold,
To tell you the truth, what many have thunk
most of this stuff - long ago stunk.
1 comment:
Nah - May not have stunk, just packed away in a big brown trunk!
For someone to find and enjoy before the lid goes CLUNK!
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