Discarded

The air is thick with memories
and dust lays thick.
Spiderwebs drape the corners.

There was love here once,
and worship and joy,
all abandoned for newer toys,

all forgotten, or at least almost,
banished to an upper room
for archeologists and children to discover

and wonder, what did they do to deserve
this fate, a fate worse than destruction,
to be forgotten, and yet, still live.

About this poem

It’s more about people than things.

The picture was taken in the attic of my church.

Tom