I don't mind
Hand me downs
My whole wardrobe
My dresser
My closet
Are full of hand me downs
And if they aren't
Hand me downs
They're thrifted
Which is sort of hand me downs
If you think about it
Someone was done with it
And gave it to someone else
Who sold it to me
I don't mind
Hand me downs
At all
I love them
Love knowing I'm not the first to cherish it
Love it
Use it all the time
But when
It's not clothes
When it's me
That's the hand me down
How can I love it
How can you love it
How can you love me
When I'm a hand me down
I've been loved by others
But ultimately thrown away carelessly
They didn't love me all that much anyways
Thrown off
To be sold to someone else
Trying to pawn it off
To someone gullible enough
To take me
I don't understand
How you can love
Such a hand me down
But I guess I've wondered
That about all my own hand me downs
I love them just as much
As you love me
And I always wonder
How someone could get rid of
Something so wonderful
Do you actually think I'm wonderful?
YOU ARE READING
Leaving Behind the Endless Fields of Corn and Soybeans
PoetryEveryone has that one place in their heart. The two will always be connected, whether they love that place, or hate that place. My place? My town? I love it, I hate it. I've left it behind. This collection of poetry is about the place, the town, tha...
