deepundergroundpoetry.com
The Withered
Warped wallpaper
& sharp edges
Peeled back paint
& concrete stairs
Reinforced doors
& stained carpet
The smell of nicotine
In the air
Time worn wrinkles
Held me tightly
Tone deaf cords
& brushed out hair
Beauty could not
Be afforded
But adoration
Was not spared
Maybe my love
For the withered
Does not come
From lack of wealth
But because
It was the last time
I felt true love
In that old creaky house
& sharp edges
Peeled back paint
& concrete stairs
Reinforced doors
& stained carpet
The smell of nicotine
In the air
Time worn wrinkles
Held me tightly
Tone deaf cords
& brushed out hair
Beauty could not
Be afforded
But adoration
Was not spared
Maybe my love
For the withered
Does not come
From lack of wealth
But because
It was the last time
I felt true love
In that old creaky house
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