Dear M,
I think I'm discarded; maybe– somewhere in your room.
Another memory to merge with that speck of dust on your bookshelf.
Why are you so selfish?
I still wish you glory days when I live through your misery; hell.
I am knowledged that God loves the sinners but hates their sins.
Goodnight moon, but always remember..
Gold eventually rusts too.
Sincerely yours..
