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Blue Jeans
It’s dark in here;
It has been for awhile.
But my hope hasn’t wavered.
You see,
I still wait each day
For her.
When she opens the entrance,
light floods in
And I see her face,
Smiling and bright;
Dark hair shining
Eyes wide.
Today is different.
I’m lifted from the bottom
like I’m flying--
Higher,
Higher.
Her room has changed.
The walls were pink,
Now they’re blue.
Those posters are gone,
The ones of the boys that sing
About unknown beauty and heartbreak.
She looks older.
I remember those!
It’s her mother.
Try them on!
The pockets are bedazzled.
What’s wrong with that?
Just put them on!
Zip.
Snap.
Put them in the bag.
I wanted to cry,
Scream,
Shout!
Couldn’t she remember?
Did she not recall?
The day she first got me at the mall?
The time she laughed so hard
When she and her father rolled
Down the muddy hill?
The day she cried because she spilled
Paint
All over me
And worried it wouldn’t wash?
Or the time her dog
Dragged her by her feet
Through the snow
And she laughed with joy?
The time I was there
When she had to say goodbye to Grandma?
What about the day
She fell
And ripped a hole
In me
On her knee
Because that kid didn’t like her?
Or all the times
She rubbed her hands
Against me
When she was nervous?
The day she came home
And fell to the floor
Crying
Crying
Because the days were just too long?
The way her mother
Would carry her
When she was too tired?
Or the time
She grabbed me from the dryer
And pulled me close to her face
To smell the lavender softener
That always made her smile?
What about--
Snap.
Zip.
I’m wadded up,
Tossed away.
It’s dark in here.
It will be for awhile.
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I generally don't write poetry but I thought I would give it a try.