I have a tattered shoe box
Filled with notes I shouldn’t keep
Addressed to names I was called
But forbidden to repeat.

There’s a bundle of sticks
Bound up in rubber bands,
A small bag of stones
And tiny fractured chicken bones.

Why did I hold onto this trash
That weaponized internal wars?
Perhaps to keep due evidence
Of what created these scabs and scars.

This shoe box is tired now
With mementos I must spurn.
To be pleased in the present
This box I must burn.


I have more poems. Perhaps you will like this one.

Published by TheOtherKLM

Hey there! I'm K.L. McDaniel, an introverted extrovert who's into fitness with a bit of a twist and always shuffling through life's organized clutter. Here at TheOtherKLM, I dive into everything that makes us tick—from the quiet corners of introverted minds to the sweat and joy of staying active, all while keeping our mental game strong. I'm all about contradictions that somehow make perfect sense. Think of me as your go-to for exploring how to learn endlessly, live healthily, and think deeply, all without losing our collective minds. It's not just about fitness or learning; it's about finding balance in the chaos and connecting in the most unexpected ways. So, if you're into making sense of life's beautiful mess with me, stick around. We're in for a journey of learning, laughing, and maybe a bit of dancing... metaphorically speaking, of course.

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