that smells of places it has been,
with my tears caught in its fabric,
and my life sewn in its seams,
it's seen it's share of sunshine,
and it's kept me warm in snow,
its bright colors now a memory,
of a time lost long ago,
but like my favorite sweater,
you've been worn out once too much,
and the stitches that protect you,
start to crumble with my touch,
i'e even tried to fix you,
but i never learnt to sew,
and the only thing that's left to do,
is learn to let you go,
my old and worn out sweater,
it no longer fits me snug,
it's a lose as your two arms were,
the last time we ever hugged,
so promise me just one thing,
as i bid you both farewell,
that you remember me long after,
my favorite sweater's lost my smell.
No comments:
Post a Comment