Rubber Trees

Yesterdays and used to be’s,
Sunday funnies and rubber trees,
Yes maam’s and thank you please,
Simple things of memories.

But there in the shadows,
the deepest darkest part,
were the things of naughty-naughty.

Unseen and untold,
as the years unfold,
the shadow falls upon it all…
And the rubber tree lives
in yesterday.

The Sunday funnies still come and go,
but I don’t read them
any more.

.

.

© 2014 John Allen Richter

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About johnallenrichter

I am an aspiring Poet and adorer of life, a conqueror of nothing. However I am a champion curator of truth and friendship and hold both of those things most dearly to my heart. Welcome to my mind's eye. I hope you will enjoy what you may find and please know that you have a friend here. View all posts by johnallenrichter

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