exiting…

exiting

the end
seems to be made
of
broken pieces
parts
like hearts
that
now seem
to fail
and arms
too weak
to hold
what once
seemed
quite light
oh
this growing old
seems to be made
of
broken pieces
minds
full of history
but
no one
to listen
nor
will it hold
new thoughts
like before
oh
this growing old
is
full of
broken
pieces

unclaimed…

unclaimed

gathered up
my
memories
and
placed them
upon
my mind’s table
sorted
through
a few
and
tossed others
aside
especially
the ones
tainted
by
the hatred
of
others
there
were quite
a few
of
those
including
several
i had not
recognized before
but
i
like others
are
haunted
by
apparitions
of
yesterday’s
trust and belief
in
any case
the remaining memories
were
of
loves lost
and
loves unclaimed
each
unique
in their own way
none 
could
or
should
be regretted
just
past moments
in
time
unclaimed baggage
from
a trip
long completed