I see and am made to remember,
What each took, and each gave.
And what are tied all together
from,
all the little things.
What is now left...
I see many that are just now broken,
seem no longer wanted.
Most likely unmissed if never there,
or tossed away.
I look around....
Your room,
Those objects and memories I gave you,
And what I put into and us.
But do I see anything you've placed here;
Items, images, tokens of remembrances of or for
Me?
I suddenly realized to you,
This room, it's items, treasured junk, and fodder that includes me,
Are just that to you,
Nothing but your little things.

© M.E.Purdy