The thing of peculiar origin
So small and neglected on your
Pristine floors, that fragmented
Piece missed when you did
The chores. Miniscule and
Once part of something whole
now forgotten and
Torn. Forlorn, it
Stagnates and weeps of dust
Crying out, "You must! You must
receive me," it pleads, "unite me
with my body once more!"
its carcass Disposed of
some days before.
You sigh and sweep
the floor once more.
YOU ARE READING
Juvenilia ✔/ a Nonfiction Undergraduate University Collection
Non-FictionA collection of poems, essays, seminars, and other miscellaneous papers from my Undergraduate Degree in English Literature with a concentration in Creative Writing and minors in Classical History and Publishing. ju·ve·nil·i·a noun 1. works produced...
