The Dressing Up Box

I was looking at a meme about the idea that we are ghosts inside a meat coated skeleton, made from stardust, riding a rock whilst hurtling through space, and I thought ‘there’s a poem in there somewhere’ 🤔 So here it is.

The Dressing up Box

Borrowed clothes of passing time,

Once formed a cobweb so sublime.

Those golden strands of woven threads

Enmesh rehash then re embed.

The tattered past, restrained no more,

Lies crumpled, trampled on the floor.

A locked up chest of dusty cloth,

A silent sentinel for moth.

those that shimmered now lies dull

Unravelled like some threadbare wool.

The hand me downs that you acquired

Weren’t yours to keep, but only hired.

Lynda M Roberts ©2022

Image from Here

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