behind that yonder door

when I consider all the gunk,

all the stuff and all the junk,

that hides behind that yonder door,

that lurks within the bottom drawer,

of my cluttered closet's steamer trunk,

I do recall there must be more,

than all these relics of times before,

I have an inkling, a worried thought,

that with this syncopated rime I ought,

to take the pulse of times gone by,

and ask myself the reason why,

I keep holding on to all that was,

but I fear the reason is jus' becuz.





The End

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