For Pops


Newspapers



He had thrown away
So much in his life,
His home,
His parents,
His children,
That he couldn't bear
To throw away the newspapers.

They filled every flat space,
Every chair,
Every table,
Every room.

Taking over
In piles and piles,
They had a muse of their own.
Demon newspapers,
Invading our lives,
Choking our air.

He guarded their news,
Jealously,
In case he had
Missed a story.
A crucial story.
Kept in his special archive,
Strewn all over his life.




Poetry by Esti D-G
Read 626 times
Written on 2006-01-14 at 20:06

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Esti D-G
Hi Penfold - actually it really was my Dad! But our upstairs neighbour had columns of them reaching the ceiling!
Luv esti
2006-01-14


penfold18
I have heard of people hoarding papers before this is a good insight well done Esti :-))
2006-01-14