Sitting at my desk this morning, with a whole heap of serious minded tasks to look at, I quite predictably got distracted from doing any of that by a little poem what I wrote years ago and found earlier today. Quite happy with it, I typed it out and saved it in a folder just in case I ever want to look at it again. This incident reminded me of another little poem that was happened across, this one I didn’t write and was found under a bed, on a scrap of paper in student digs in Leeds. My sister came across this forlorn little moment captured and abandoned in the corner of a room by an unknown hand. This gives it even greater poignancy and my sis and I have always loved it, so I thought I’d share it and maybe the owner will one day come across it and reclaim it as hers.
Goodbye
He said
Goodbye.
I shuffled
My feet
And kept a close
Watch on my shoes.
He was talking
I was listening
But he probably
Thought I was
Not
Because I never
Even lifted my
Head.
I didn’t want him
To see
The mess mascara
Makes when it
Runs.
