a poem , just because..i like to narrate things

Few presents;
if not all , returned.

Letters unread,

A response unheard.

An imminent rage, placed itself
on the pages torned.

The plate broken in 4 halfs.

The toys unheld,

The ring was trash.

The money and time input
was not "built to last".

The shirt and pocketknife was left behind as someone else´s gift.

The memories destroyed because of some familiar beast.

Objects that carry good old memories ,
became by this sordid act, haunted.

Objects that come to life , and state the true fact:

A heartless person, that lives only to revenge, to attack.

A knife was in my heart,
instead of the normal air I breathed.

And a seringe in my brain,
trying to erase what was once there.

But memories are there to help us grow;

For those who don´t remenber their mistakes
are doomed to error more times the same.

The objects lay smashed, and the papers rippled in a bag.

All that was left...
stayed behind!

As I clearly remenber, only asking for one bird whistle of my dad´s;
he gave me back all the material gifts i´d given him .

As so it was with my previous ex.

But at least , this one , had the decency to give everything back
instead of picking what to keep.

Have I not learned from my previous mistakes?
To pick someone so similar in so many ways?
Have I forgotten what the fuss was all about, and let one more soul down?
Had I let everything come to this, because I was unprepared, or because they were both dramaqueens?

Was I?!

Perhaps in his devious mind, he thought that it might be usefull to give me back the book and objects,

Perhaps he just wanted to say... get away, but i´ve been away..

so it´s meaningless!

No matter how many people tell me that this was an act of a torn- out- heart filled with love
I only see someone whos seeks to hurt,
I only see someone who is uncapable to respond face to face,
I only see someone who wants to play.

And stupid or pehaps sad enough,

this last action was so strong in me,
as my soul heard,

that he erased all the good memories.

There is nothing else I can do ,
But to remenber him by:

" the jerk who didin´t know how to say goodbye"