Her shirt
The boxes stood all piled up,
Wondering when and why they all in a row.
Slowly I moved towards the boxes,
Playing with the duck tape,
As she forgot to have them sealed.
Why is it this feel all so different?
Why is it that this is so hard to comprehend?
Just a month went by,
But yet she hasn’t sealed.
I reached inside,
To reached what my hand can remove.
Their it was,
Still smelling like her,
The velvety, fruity scent
Only she had.
It was my favourite to have her in.
I pull it closer to my chest.
The shirt I loved to rip open.
How many times haven’t we sowed it back?
How many times didn’t I have to remove it from her skin?
Her pale skin,
With the baby blue shirt on.
The shirt I still can’t give a way.
The only thing I kept to remember her by.
The shirt she loved most of all.
Copyright C Davids
5 comments:
a very sentimental shirt I love this poem the most. I do have that kind of shirt and i still wear it at night. my mom gave it to me before she left us...and never come back....ur good really good....good luck god bless
Nice story poem :)
Also gotta say I love the decor of your blog, very cute :)
...Also ... I just read your 'About Me' and you are so much like me! Stuck in a book as a child and wanting to become an author! - and also I Love Taylor Swift (Love Story) I'm seeing her in March :)
I will be following you and reading your "Poetry and Writing" Keep up the good work :)
Wonderful...
how cute is that...
love your take.
keep sharing...
A++
:)
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