Bubble Wrap

I am indeed inclined to hoard,
The small and insignificant “stuff”
Which accumulates to great excess.
All due my desire to preserve
The memories of passing times.
But memory is insufficient
To keep the meaning of my treasures.
And yet I always manage
To find some way to trigger
The reminiscences of youth.
Though now unneeded
I keep them safe,
These things like empty pens.
To others they have no meaning
But I know their true value.
I’ll covet them forever,
Unthreatened, they continue to accrue
However, with painful regret,
 I cannot bubble wrap you.

The End

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