#WritcoPoemPrompt115
Threw out old boxes,
Regrets and photographs,
Empty pockets and lockets,
And all that brought chafe

It was about time to do so
To stop grieving for own self
To stop repraminding for nothing
To surface rather than delve

For how long does one do so
And wait for someone to return
When they can move on in life
Why alone do I burn?
© Reema_arora
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