My Writing

Scarf.
Perhaps you never did care about it.
It was never worn.
It was Thrown on the coat hanger.
It was sitting next to that jacket that you never wanted.
Your mother gave to you.
It was an obligation.

Little did you know how much
Work
Went into that scarf
That is
Thrown
To the Side
And never Looked at again.

You could have
Possibly
Known
How much my hands hurt
Making that for you.
Every stitch;
All the thousands of them.
But,
I did not
Wince
Or Cry
Or
Admit
That
I
Was
Gaspingforair.

That scarf has been in the same Place
All
Year.
Its pain has since been forgotten, but it is
A constant reminder
Of how much you could have loved
That scarf.

Labels: Carelessness, Obligation, Potential, Scarf