Shoeboxes

Here is another poem I wrote from a topic provided by my sister. The topic is obvious by the title. 

Shoeboxes

By Melody Beerbower, 3-18-14

Bits of strings and scraps of news

Pictures and poems

And dried-out glue

Pencils and pens

And nails and screws

Letters and cards

And fake tattoos

Pom-poms and play-dough

And stale cashews 

Pennies and postcards

And bottled shampoos

Books and maps

And mysterious clues 

Patterns and plans

And stuffed kangaroos

Posters and papers

And plaster canoes 

Check stubs and bills 

And toothbrushes unused

Shoeboxes aren't always 

Filled with shoes. 

Broken Hangers

My sister gave me some three topics to write poems on. Here is what I came up with. 

Broken Hangers

By Melody Beerbower, 3-4-14

Broken hangers on the floor.

They can hold our clothes no more,

For they are bent and snapped in two,

And you can't fix them with Gorilla Glue. 

Some Things Have to Die

By Melody Beerbower, 3-4-14

Your life has been drained from you

Drop by drop.

You're mercilessly worked 

Until you stop.

Then finally at your last second of life

So full of strife,

You're ripped from your home in a flash,

Poor dead battery in the trash. 

Fading Tulips

By Melody Beerbower 3-4-14

There upon the crack pavement 

Surrounded by mud, and gunk, and gum

Lies a faded tulip

Dying in the Sun.

Hurried feet pass it by

Treading close with out a care.
Eyes all absorbed in phones and gadgets,

None see it lying there

It once stood tall in a window box,

Drinking in the sights and sounds.

But someone plucked in from it's roots,

And left it on the ground. 

The streets are growing crowded.

Stomping, crushing, grinding feet

Pass like many mini millstones

Over the tulip in the street.

Will no one ever see it,

And wonder at it's fragile stem?

And are it's pale pink petals

To the dust condemned?

The harsh sun is fading from the sky'

Darkness creeping o're earth's brow.

If the poor tulip wasn't seen before

Who would see it now?