past tense made present
he was going through some boxes in the attic
labelled 'Old Junk'
a pile of photos emerged
and there was I
his hands in constant, idle motion
seized
he stared at me
I swung him back
to the place he no longer calls home
he refused, it's not right
it's not him
but as surely as I had once been real
I was in the picture
I was back again
and I would not burn into ashes
as the Old Junk did
labelled 'Old Junk'
a pile of photos emerged
and there was I
his hands in constant, idle motion
seized
he stared at me
I swung him back
to the place he no longer calls home
he refused, it's not right
it's not him
but as surely as I had once been real
I was in the picture
I was back again
and I would not burn into ashes
as the Old Junk did
Labels: poem

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