In bits and pieces,
Dribs and drabs,
Bit by bit, he fades away.
Less and less and less… until
There is no more, and
All that is left is brittle pieces on the floor
To be swept under the rug where no one will see,
No one will care, no one will know, not even him.
No one.
Except me.
Only me…
Maybe one day you’ll lift that rug, and not even recognize what the pieces are, and just sweep them out the door. 😊
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Michelle, that’s me, Deb. I don’t know why it didn’t post as Learning to live like water. Phones…. grrrrr
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yup, you are right my friend, out the door they go! 🙂 That is odd why it didn’t post as you… who knows. Hope all is well with you!
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Ah…some old pieces of life need to be swept out the door.
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Yes they do and I think I did, finally 🙂
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