Jack's thick blue shirt
Huddled in the corner
Crumpled under the weight
Of the memories lining its pockets
Your jewellery box
Slurred its words
Gasping over the premise
Of unfulfilled treasure
My photo album, arms folded
Leaning against the dresser
Each yellowing snapshot
Slightly missed the mark
Whilst the memory of the tulips blooms
Its subjects cannot help their decay
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