I spent some hours fixing up
An awesome coat I'd torn apart
And never once did I just pause
To see that I'm not being smart
If I'd been thinking logically
I would have thrown that coat away
But in my mind it's still the one
That I'd like to wear every day
And I can still remember when
That coat made me feel warm inside
The snow could come or rain or sleet
And I'd just take it in my stride
But it's not been like that for months
And there's no patch that I can buy
To make my chest feel warm again
Or even keep me somewhat dry
I know I should get rid of it
But I'm stuck by the memory
Of what it was when it was new
Of what the coat could truly be
And I know that this all sounds dumb—
I write like the coat was the GOAT—
So mock me, please, just understand...
I'm not writing about a coat
YOU ARE READING
Poems to Leave Streaks of Ink
PoetryAnd I'd rage at the monsters, But that's the task of fools, Who cannot bring themselves to know, Monsters are humans' tools... I write poems like this, just usually longer...feel free to give some of them a read:)