A scrap of paper
torn at the edges
found crumpled in my pocket
crumpled, rumpled, bumps, lumps
in my memory
forgotten fragments of far gone fancies
scribbled down and discarded
or tucked away
safe from prying eyes
the secrets of my soul
bared on a piece of bark
was a mere shopping list
of ordinary items
turned mysterious by the yellowing of age
and the smudge
of faded pencil markings
obscure the message
once so clear
now never more known
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